Thankful … For This Virus

I am at home for Thanksgiving.

Did you hear me?

I AM AT HOME FOR THANKSGIVING!

No mini-van to pack, no clothes to wash for the trip, no need to remember every lovie my kids need to go to sleep because we are having our holiday in Chambana.

Holy. Shit.

Just one minor quirk in my plans — we’re all sick. The Poo came down with the creeping crud just in the nick of time to make our travel plans obsolete. We don’t want to infect anyone where we were headed, and I also refused to travel with sick children. I’ve seen enough of Cleveland Metro Area emergency rooms, yo.

We’re home.

Home!

I’m sick as a dog today, but by George, I am making a big fucking turkey and green-bean casserole, because I’ve always wanted it and no one would ever make it for me. I’m making two pies — just as soon as the oven repairman gets here to (hopefully) tell me my oven is a total piece of shit so I can get a new one.

It’s Christmas! In November!

Woot!

I even have holiday music playing in the background, the soundtrack to “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” It may be delirium from the fever, but I’m going with it.

Mr. C will be home in about an hour, and then I am going to collapse on the sofa as is my God-given right as nursemaid to the sick. I might knit! Or read! Or take a goddamn nap in the middle of the goddamn day!

I am thankful, y’all, not only to sleep in my very! own! bed! and make my very! own! turkey! I am thankful for my beautiful kids, for a husband who put us first this holiday and for the abundant food on my table. I am blessed, indeed, to have a life that so many would give their eye teeth for.

And I know it.

I am thankful for pills that keep Teh Crazy at bay, for the opportunity to do good work for good pay and good people, and for my new sherpa fleece sweatshirt.

I am thankful for you, my community, both in Chambana and the world at large.

Happy Turkey Day, mah peeps.