It’s snowing right now. That has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I had to tell you. You want to know these things, don’t you?
For me a holiday isn’t celebrated unless you have a house full of family and friends, there is at least one cooking ‘incident’, and you need a separate kid’s table. I like my holidays to be filled with too much noise, too much mess, and too much egg-nog. Not really.
I don’t like egg-nog. *Gasp*
Needless to say, Thanksgiving was not properly celebrated in my house. The contributing factors are endless, but no countertops, a temporary aversion to poultry, and plans to travel the day after all played a key role. I didn’t want to cook a big meal since we were going out-of-town on Friday. After all, nobody would be home to eat the leftovers, so we went out – an act that is as un-American as not eating pumpkin pie.
I didn’t even eat turkey, not one bite. I really wanted to go to a BB-Q place in Albany; however, they weren’t going to be open. No place I called was going to be open, except for the grand buffet that I like only slightly more than McDonald’s. Although fighting my way in line for some mashed potatoes wasn’t exactly heartwarming, my children appreciated being able to get turkey and gummy-bears on the same plate.
Let this go down in the record books. I will NEVER go out to eat on a holiday again! Unless, because there’s always an exception clause, my kitchen has collapsed. Things like that are always a possibility in my house.
Thanksgiving wasn’t a total bust, Albany is a great place to play on a holiday. It’s pretty much empty and the steps of the capitol building are a child’s dream, especially if they have bouncy balls tucked into their pockets.
The rest of our weekend went by in a blur. Despite not being a morning person, I was at Target at the crack of dawn to join the Black Friday riots. It wasn’t so bad, but I did hear rumors of screaming in Target at exactly 5:01 over a pallet of electronics. By the time I walked through the doors there wasn’t a cart or basket to be had and the line was at least three miles long.
This is when I became overwhelming thankful for every last labor pain my son caused me. I stood him in line and told him to follow the woman in front of him at all costs, I’d be right back. So while my son saved a spot in line, I scurried around grabbing my bargains. Every few minutes I’d stop back to check on him and fill his arms. It was a morning that will ensure teenage rebellion, but I risked all for several pairs of $6 boys jeans.
During an excursion to get T-shirts, I reverted to my super-sleuth days as I shimmied up to a red-shirted sales associate and eavesdropped on her conversation. I distinctly heard something about ushering people through the toothpaste aisle, so I ran back to my spot 4 hours from checkout, grabbed my son, and started running towards the toothpaste. FringeBoy thought I had finally cracked and he was not happy about losing his place in line, but we found solace just past the toothpaste in the mouthwash section. A new, baby line was birthed and we were only about 15 minutes from paying. I felt like I had finally found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and I sang “It is well with my soul”.
Friday night we left for our mini trip, so that on Sunday FringeMan could preach in the church where we were married. My cousin and her boyfriend joined us for breakfast on Saturday where we witnessed a man lose his breaks and run over a stone wall about two feet from my feet. It was an unfortunate event, but hysterical just the same.
We had a feast that night with my mother and uncle and I slammed my fingers into a door on Sunday morning. Only problem was that I locked door before pulling it shut and didn’t have the key to unlock it and remove my fingers.
Horrible thoughts flashed through my mind as I contemplated the ramifications of losing two fingers – no more easy typing.
There was nothing to do except yank my hand out of the door and whine over the pain. I hang onto the hope that I will one day outgrow my clumsiness; however, judging from the way I slammed my ankle into the car door two weeks ago, I’d say it’s a pipe dream.
Care to share any highlights from your weekend?