I commented Saturday (the day we celebrated our Thanksgiving) while I was trying to carve the turkey how thankful I was that our holiday was so low-key and no stress.
Well, that's kind of what I said.
What I actually said was, "It's so nice to have Thanksgiving be so low-key without silly men making it stressful."
To be honest, I said, "stupid men," not silly men.
Call me a man-hater - I'm sure if you're one of the silly men I'm referring to you want to. I can take it.
I consider myself more of a man-drama hater. The man who got his panties in a wad over the fact that we all didn't gather around the table for lunches would not have been okay with Thanksgiving dinner served on paper plates and eaten in the living room. Nor would he have been alright with me carving (ripping) the turkey. Or that it was nearly 8 by the time we ate. Or that halfway through the meal preparation, none of us really felt like eating turkey and we considered postponing the meal another day, which would have been totally fine with us. But not with him.
We did all gather in a circle and hold hands. I held Evalyn and prayed. It wasn't a very good prayer, I'll admit. Someone even joked about having it "rehearsed", which it clearly wasn't. Stuff like that is okay with us.
"Damn, it feels good to be me...."
Thank you, Uncle Kracker for stealing the words right out of my mouth.
It does feel good to be me, to be us, in all our imperfections and quirkiness.
We're messy, we don't play by the rules sometimes, we break traditions and start our own, we're loud, we laugh constantly and sometimes our prayers suck.