Thanksgiving - Rock on, baby!

Thanksgiving Day was beautiful this year. Very strangely beautiful actually, but I'm no fan of the cold so I'll take it! On Wednesday night, we all hopped into the car and headed out, pies in tow, to the great state of Oklahoma. My concerns of driving in the dark during deer rut season were happily unwarranted, as we made it safe and sound, deer collision free. Though on the side of the road, others were not so lucky. The police were very busy that night. Anyhow, I've veered off point. I seem to do that from time to time. Thanksgiving was good this year. We spent it with Josh's family and the dinner was pretty much Alex-friendly save a few minor dishes that he wouldn't have eaten anyways. I, like my mother before me, had pie duty. I spent what seemed to be endless hours baking pies the day before. Lucky for me (and everyone else's tummies apparently) my mom passed along her joy of baking and cooking to me. I know sugar pretty well thanks to her. It was fun for the kids, especially Alex who is always in his element if there are kids around. And Abby was even mildly social this time. Yay for Abby! It was an all around good time and I'm glad we got to share it with Josh's family this year.

Sadly, with every Thanksgiving comes the inevitable story of some crazy family member doing something quite embarrassing and truly memorable. Unfortunately for me, I was that family memeber. What you are about to read is a true...and mildly embarrassing...account of Thanksgiving 2011. We got the pleasure of having our big meal at Josh's cousin's house, which I've never been to before. They had a room in the back of the house that had a card table set up for the kids to eat at. Beside this table were two old, short-back rocking chairs. Yow know the kind, padded for comfort and wooden legs that were built to withhold the many bottoms that grace it's presence. People had been sitting in them the whole time so when the room cleared out and the chairs were free, I happily set my tired butt down and played with an old magic 8 ball with my niece, Linsey. Abby crawled up onto my lap for some down time. My belly was full of turkey and tasty desserts. And the room was quiet and peaceful. All was right with the world. So yeah...that moment of zen lasted about...oh...five minutes. Suddenly without any warning whatesoever, the legs of this timeless rocking chair spontaneously combusted underneath me. The chair legs shattered, pieces of wood flying through the air in every-which direction. I, like the graceful human I am, merely lie there in a strangely humorous position as I push Abby safely away from the now pile of rubble on the floor. My niece is staring at me with a look that said, "Why is my strange aunt turning bright red and giggling uncontrollably from the floor?" You must understand that when the chair exploded, it also made a quite obvious, earth-shattering sound that could, in fact, be heard on the other side of the house with ease. I'm sure at first, there was concerns for another possible earthquake aftershock, but earthquakes aren't known for giggling. Why was I giggling? Simple. I was absolutely, positively, without a doubt...mortified. I'd just finished eating my six helpings of dessert so I'd already felt freakishly overweight as my cheap wal-mart belt groaned at the pressure of my unusually large meal. So naturally, breaking a chair of the host's house was not looking so good. And as soon as the rest of the house heard the sounds of chaos coming from the back room, their natural reaction was to go in to the room, one by one, to see what could have made such a raucous. Now, if efficiency has taught us anything, once one person sees the cause of the loud booming sound, they could essentially turn around and tell everyone else, saving the poor embarrassed soul from reliving the moment over...and over...and over again. But this was not the case. As each person enters the room, I have to explain to them individually, amidst my constant strain of giggles, that I had in fact shattered the rocking chair by merely sitting in it. As Josh's cousins sift through the rubble of a now worthless chair, I apologize and attempt to regain a shred of self-respect. Sadly, I think the remaining shards of my self-respect will forever be lost with the toothpick like remnants that littered the floor. What have I gained from this experience you might ask? Well, I now have a healthy fear of accepting invitations in other people's houses to 'Have a seat.' I also learned that there is, in fact, a correct answer to that age old Thanksgiving question, "Should I have another piece of pie?" The answer would be NO. You definitely should not. As a matter of fact, I think I'll just swear off of pie...for now.

And that my friends....is the rest of the story.