A Thanksgiving Well Spent: To the Couch We Shall Go

Let's see where this all begins and where it ends. Ahh yes. The couch, which always welcomes its guest and provides a reliable, comfortable perch, from which to watch the world and its happenings.

footballturkey

Couches, in my experience, almost always promote poor posture. But what good is a seasoned, well-worked, bouncy, embracing couch if you mean only to sit up with a straight back and your head well-positioned, hovering as it should be, perfectly above your spine.

From the couch, you can see it all. You can watch the football game, drink your beer, put your feet up, smell the delightful scents released by the cooking of turkeys, pearl onions, and green bean casseroles. Pots and pans weaving and bobbing from kitchen to table. Ahh. Let the brain process what is about to happen.

The stomach is busy with calisthenics, preparing for a long day of exertion and overabundance, sighing at the foregone conclusion that it will need to work at the pace of miracles just to keep this human body afloat for another day.

Of all the genius that helped create the human body, it seems that the part in charge of eating is usually the victor when it comes to the serious decision-making.

The belly beats the brain, every time. 

My trick is that I'm right in the middle, I'm not too old as to have responsibilities in the kitchen or in the supervision of children. I'm not too young to be displaced from a valuable and difficult to attain, seat on the couch.

The young are not entitled to seats; they are always reserved for seniority. Kids are meant to run around, in circles if they have to, before they grow old and tired. How do you think people get so tired in the first place?   
 
Perhaps before the feasting begins we should not just share our thankful thoughts but also express our gratitude and deepest apologies to turkeys everywhere. What an insane situation they've found themselves in, all because a few Pilgrims had dinner with a gracious native people who may or may not have served turkeys. Probably not. 

Who made the decision to screw the turkey for this holiday? And when was it made? What sort of authority did that person have? Poor turkeys, we are grateful for your sacrifice.   

Predicting a satisfying Thanksgiving dinner is like predicting that you will wear pants today.

Sweet, sweet glorious stuffing. And mashed potatoes. Where is my beer? I'll eat the whole drumstick and not feel bad about a thing. That's my bowl of gravy, where is yours? There is some talking but mainly gorging.

Seconds!
What do you say?
Please! Now! 

Then, in the blink of an eye, it's back to the couch at the end of it all. Maybe some mingling and conversation occur, but it's the couch that beckons, calling us home for that sweet after dinner drowsiness.     

And so I predict a Thanksgiving well spent.

As turmoil continues to bear fruit across the globe, so many do not get to spend a day in comfort, writing silly blogs, eating delicious food, and watching football games with their friends and family.

I will accept this fact and be thankful for every single moment of this, never forgetting that these things I enjoy are not a normal part of life, but rather, that I am very lucky indeed. 

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