Happy Day, Turkey

We are in hour 19 of the Drake Reunion: Phase 1. So far, my mom has mentioned how much she loves her Magic Bullet blender three times, which she always describes as "cuter than a little bug in a rug," "faster than you can say 'Uncle'," and "costs an arm and two legs." Overall, I believe she has fallen in love with it and will be serving my dad with divorce papers as soon as she gets the latest Magic Bullet model in white for the commitment ceremony.

My cousin has barely said five words, but when she does, they are always funny, eloquent, and interesting (just like her mom). I like her and am glad she lives close. My uncle, however, talks a lot and says things like, "Let's all thank Jesus for the pilgrims before we eat this pineapple upside down cake," even though we were eating cornbread at the time. He thanks Jesus for everything from a Broncos touchdown to the Cinderella mug he drinks his coffee from because he is a minister. And also crazy.

My sister has managed to scold my mom for using paper towels and even went so far as to call her a tree killer. I also realized that she is constantly seeking approval and attention, and she believes she can achieve these things by pointing out the bargain prices she paid for EVERYTHING ("This couch is from the 1930's and I only paid $400 for it!" "And these plates? $30 for a 10 piece set!"). Strangely enough, she never does this when the family is not around, and I can't figure out the thought process that leads her to believe that her ability to buy things will win her love from large groups.

Thank Christ for the bathtub with jets in it. I am truly thankful for that today.

But the good news is that the Treehouse is the official Turkey Cooking Site, and I am writing this while inhaling the magnificent fumes from the cooking bird. This is nice. A breeze, a house full of wackos downstairs, and moisturized hands. Gotta count your blessings.

too many. g