We started watching a movie in bed, and around 12:30, I realized that it was already his birthday, so I paused the movie and told him I'd be right back. I ran down to pull his cake out of the freezer, quickly piped on the Happy Birthday C, lit the candles, and while walking down the hall, started to sing. When I opened the door to the bedroom, he jerked back to consciousness and responded with a sleepy, "huh?" He'd forgotten all about his birthday, what with school, work, and bishopric, not to mention his diligent efforts to help his brother lately.
After wishing him a midnight Happy Birthday, I kissed him on the forehead and told him I would put the cake away, but that I was lucky to have him in my life. We slept in until about 7:15 the next morning, and after some gift opening and a breakfast of wheat sticky rolls, C ran down to the school to play Turkey-bowl with a large group of our neighborhood men and boys. C was a great coach to the young tykes - 8ish in age, and prodded them on to tackle the adult quarterback with cheers like, "Boogers and snot! Boogers and snot! Let's go get 'em!" And if you know anything about that age group, they LOVE to hear things like that and got all wound up and excited and performed like true NFL athletes with C's outstanding coaching skills.
Here I will disclose my deep dark secret, so if you are one of the few diligent family members who read my blog but never comment, here it is: You know that AMAZING Yam casserole I bring every year? Well, a little background. The first year we were married, my mom was out of state, and my dad was having dinner elsewhere, and C's mom asked if she could come to our house, so I rushed around frantically like the sky was falling, trying to get everything ready. C looked at me like I was coo-coo, and said, "What are you DOING?" I said I was trying to get things ready for dinner, and he said again, "But what are you doing? Why are you acting like this?" I really didn't know, except that it was a tradition in our home to act frantic and stressed on every holiday. So we started a new tradition: NO STRESS HOLIDAY!
So ever since that day, we have kept it easy. I can slave away like a crazy person, or I can keep it nice and easy. And since I cook SUPER healthy, I opted for an out, an unhealthy out. Honeybaked Ham makes a delectable, yet artery-clogging Sweet Potato Souffle that has never failed to please. One version of the recipe is available here. I actually know how to make this from scratch, albeit in a healthier version, but since healthy doesn't go over well at Thanksgiving, I buy them, plop them in a casserole dish, and voila! An instant, effortless hit. There it is. My deep dark.
On a happy note, the birthday boy is out cold in the big comfy chair downstairs, wiped out from a busy week. I got a good workout in this morning, and just might sneak in a second one in a little while. I ate two bites of pecan pie before the sugar rush hit me like a brick and I left the fork staring up at a pointless pie. Oh, and if you can't think of anything you are thankful for, what could be better than hearing from a bunch of New Yorkers?
Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for my good husband, my home, my job, my car, Jesus Christ, all of the good people who protect our freedoms, especially those who never get any credit for it, and a healthy body! What are you thankful for?
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