Well, Thanksgiving happened.
Complete with many things. One of them being the best Thanksgiving story to date.
This year will forever be known as the ‘Smoked Turkey’ year.
And not because we meant to smoke a turkey.
You see, we were over at Eric’s cousins house chilling in front of the giant TV with the standard football game going on. The kids were running wild in the back yard – think play structure, trampoline, pogo stick, all that jazz – and the Twins were winning over ever single heart in the house when all of the sudden we were evacuated to the kid infested back yard while plumes of smoke billowed wildly from every window.
We learned two very important things during this exercise.
1. Don’t move the turkey pot until you’re ready to remove it unless you wish to
splash drippings onto the oven and have massive flames explode in your face.
2. None of the smoke alarms were working in the house.
A very important lesson to have learned while the house was in it’s current state, rather than at some other, possibly tragic time.
I wish I had a picture, or any pictures of the day, but I was in such a food coma that not a single snap was taken.
But believe me, it was awesome.
And then,
the end of an era rolled in.
My 29th birthday happened. There was
Breakfast
– scrambled eggs with toast and burnt bacon, thanks babe! –
Gifts
– Massage, facial, pedicure and cards, cards & more cards. –
Dinner
– One that I made with friends & ice cream cake. And one with the family made by my MIL, thanks mom! –
And now, well… Now I just feel old.
But hey, at least I have a pamper Kelly weekend coming up.
xoxo