Thanksgiving Spirit

It’s almost Thanksgiving, y’all. The spirit of giving thanks is all around. To perpetuate that spirit, I’m going to share with you an experience I just had with a lovely woman that, I feel, will leave you all questioning your own giving spirit, wondering what more you can do to be more like her. Sit back, enjoy, and allow this to enable a moment of self-reflection.

As I do everyday, this morning I ordered my Starbucks coffee and breakfast on my mobile app, parked my car inside the lines of the parking space I chose (I’m getting really good at that now; it only took me 2 years!!), and turned off my car to grab my stuff and go inside.

Before I could get out of my car, I heard a “thud” and my car moved! An earthquake! It must be! But, in Atlanta???? I look over to my passenger side to see a lady give me a nasty look as she’s getting in her car. That’s right, y’all. She purposefully hit my car with her car door. Now, I could have done nothing. But that’s just not who I am.

So, all 5 feet, 2 inches of me steps out of my car and walks around to see if my car has been damaged. As I do that, I look over at her and she rolls down her window. That’s right. I witnessed a Thanksgiving miracle. She was able to get into her car! How was that possible when I was parked so closely??? Y’all, she must be in God’s favor. In a minute, you’ll see that’s obvious.

With her window down she says, “You nee ta park in tha lines ness time!” To which I replied, “I did!” and motion to my tire, which is clearly on the correct side of the line.  As evidence, I submit the following two pictures.  The first shows that I AM parked inside the line (I’m the red car, BTW) and the second shows a bigger car that parked in the same space after her with both doors wide open.  Without (and this is the kicker) smacking my car {SHOCKED FACE!}.

parked-car-1

 

 

parked-car-2

 

As she backed away from me and my Chihuahua-esque furiousness she yells, “Happy Thanksgiving, BITCH!” Clearly a nod to my Lola. She’s so thoughtful! Although I’m not sure how she knew I had Lola… she must follow me on Instagram.

Luckily my car’s ok. No scratches. I wished her well as she drove off. Have any of you had holiday encounters that embody the spirit of giving quite like this one?

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Holiday Horror Story

The most memorable Thanksgiving (well, holiday, really) I ever had was the Thanksgiving before my daughter was born. It was the pinnacle of a situation that was years in the making.

At the time I was living in Steilacoom, Washington. I was married to my first husband, who is a green beret in the Army. I was 7 months pregnant with my first little nugget, and I was 3,000 miles away from my family and my home.

About a month prior, we did what most military families do in preparation for the holidays. We gathered up our closest Army friends and invited them over for Thanksgiving lunch as our extended family. I was so excited to cook for everyone. We were going to have more people than we’d had in the past, some of them I’d never met, so this was shaping up to be a very special day.

About a week before Thanksgiving, I was summoned to the couch where my husband informed me that he had a girlfriend (who was an officer in the Army) and he had been flying back and forth to see her, telling me it was for training, while I was left at home managing a high-risk pregnancy alone. This information was dumped on me in November. The relationship, he said, started in July. #Devastation.

Weeell, for a moment I had a fleeting thought that now maybe I wouldn’t have to be the one to pretend to be interested in his “whittling” (whatever the eff that is. Was he 90????) or his faux cowboy lifestyle (I’m from Georgia by way of Mississippi. I know cowboy. He was not it. And, by the way, all of this stupid shat started AFTER we were married. Well, most of it. I was 50% stupid).

Anyway, what about Thanksgiving?! I was still trying to process. My family. The picture I had of a two-parent family was instantly ripped and shredded then set on fire and those ashes had been burned and scattered. He promised it was over. Ok. We’ll see. (He actually wanted me to feel sorry for him that he was going through a breakup. Yep. That happened. To me. In real life.) How was I supposed to have a gathering with friends and have a good time? I’m not good at pretending. At all. This wasn’t going to be ok.

The morning of Thanksgiving I got a call out of the blue from a dear friend. Someone I’d known since I was 7. He had a layover in Seattle and wanted to know if I could hang out. You bet your ass I can! My husband-at-the-time promised he had things. He’d cook. No worries. And off I go to Seattle. I had the best time with my friend. I felt normal and happy again.

I got back to my house around 2pm. No food. Some of it was in the process of baking but nothing was ready. People just standing around. My husband-at-the-time was nowhere to be found. Until he was found. By one of his friends. Locked in the only bathroom we had, covered in vomit. He was drunk off his ass. It was so bad that his friends wouldn’t allow me to go in and clean it up. They did it for me.

That afternoon is now such a blur that I don’t even remember what happened after. I assume we all ate something. But I do remember it was horrible. It was embarrassing. It was infuriating.

And no matter what, I’m 99% sure I will never have a holiday worse than that one. Good news, I think it’s like a shark attack. Once you get bitten one time you’re not scared because what are the chances of it happening again?!

Do you have a holiday horror story?

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Thanks, Stupid

Last week was the week of giving thanks, thanks to Thanksgiving. Yep, that just happened. Facebook is full (gosh, all the alliterations are making me alluringly weirded out so I’ll stop now) of people doing the “28 days of thanks” posts.

Me, I don’t do it. It’s not that I’m ungrateful for stuff. I’m very grateful for stuff. But I’m not sure I’d have 28 meaningful things to be grateful for. In the spirit of the “what if” game that my roomie and I played in college, what if the things I list by the 16th day are stupid.

I’d no doubt start out strong.

Day 1: I’m thankful for my family. My super-sexy husband and my crazy awesome kiddos

Obligatory, I know. But they are pretty cool.

Day 2: I’m thankful that I still have my dad around

I mean, he died and came back… I’d say I’m thankful for each day with that Houdini of a man.

Day 3: I’m thankful for my mom’s guidance and advice

She keeps me sane… gives me perspective… I don’t give her much of a baseline

Day 4: I’m thankful for my puppies

They’re always happy to see me. Well, sometimes I wonder about Lola. I’m pretty sure she’s planning world domination.

Day 5: I’m thankful for my job

Now I am

Day 6: I’m thankful for my friends

My liver hates them but what does my liver know?! She doesn’t know me! She just thinks she knows what’s best for me. She’s always such a buzz kill!

Day 7: I’m thankful for restaurants

Every mom knows the feeling of relief and elation when someone else in the family says, “why don’t we go out to eat tonight?” If the idea is mine, I’m lazy. If the idea is someone else’s, I’m winning. Like Charlie Sheen without the HIV.

Day 8: I’m thankful for those humans who frequently make bad decisions

Those bad decisions make me feel prettier, smarter, and more successful.

Day 9: I’m thankful for dry air days

My blowout will last for DAYS if the weather cooperates. If not, bye-bye Cosmo Tai (my Drybar junkies know I’m right)

Day 10: I’m thankful for smoothies

All my nutrients in delicious, fruit-flavored beverages slap full of sugar. Yummy in my tummy.

Day 11: I’m thankful for my dishwasher

And I don’t mean my husband even though he’s really good at it. I went 2 years TWO YEARS without one.

Day 12: I’m thankful for commercials that aren’t stupid

The stupid ones make me angry.

See??? It’s only day 12 and I’m already thankful for commercials. COMMERCIALS. Lame. What’s sad is that people post stuff like that for reals. Can we all agree to post-shame the stupid ones? Please? No one cares that you’re thankful for cereal or selfie sticks. If I see it next year I will make fun of you. And I expect the same in return. Thank you.

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