Daddy's Coming Honey!



So, four things I’m thankful for: Faith, Family, Food, and Fatherhood. See what I did just there? I made everything start with the same letter. Makes it sound even more true. Clever, huh? They don’t call me a writer for nothin’.

Carrie and I wanted to pull the visit-two-families-in-one-day stunt one last time before have to tote a baby around. From they’ll all just have to take turns receiving us. It is strange to move from one family Thanksgiving scene to the other within the same day, comparing your experiences.

In Carolina there are two sweet potato casseroles, a yankee aunt who I secretly believe mocks our sweet tea by emptying five liters of sugar into a gallon tea, and a 2-year-old is dancing with me in a circle, singing “Puss n Boots, Puss n Boots, Puss n Boots.” In Virginia one cousin consumes a whole can of cranberry sauce and gains not a pound, my brother’s puppy has peed on every square inch of carpet, and my other cousin, a thirty-something, wants a leopard bowling ball for Christmas. Some things remain the same: Love, a warm household, ham slices and killer macaroni and cheese.

And then we begin to imagine how these dinners will be different with a new child in the home. I think that perhaps they won’t be too different at all, naturally. A new member of the house, new feelings for the new parents. But sitting around the table, we all remember, on both sides, having a newborn or growing baby in our midst, absorbing all the attention. That one family member who usually expects all the attention struck with the reality of a competitor. Other than that, we are still a loving family who eats in happiness, even in the face of awkward family feuds, surprise trips tot he hospital, surprise trips tot he grocery store (we forgot gravy!), national tragedies, local accidents, and the sudden onset of tiredness from excessive turkey-consumption.

Later in the weekend Carrie is overcome with a terrible cold, and the only meds pregnant are allowed for this are Benadryl and Tylenol, in moderation. She became a zombified martyr, while her mother and I tended to her. Still, she somehow had the energy to help decorate the tree, once she saw how subpar our efforts were. She’s a fighter, she is. I never had a doubt I was thankful for her, but I took enough care of her to remove any doubt she had.

Plus we already got a diaper cake from Carrie’s relatives, which I am very thankful for. No, not the kind you eat. And no, I don’t think there is a type of diaper cake you eat.

I’m also thankful that we somehow managed to fry two turkeys without a single injury or property damage incident.

It’s the little things. It really is.


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