Thanksgiving for One

 

Behold, my fortunate friend, Mr. Turkey.

I'm pretty sure he's sitting on a roost

right this very minute

penning a thank-you note

of depth and heartfelt appreciation.

 

Dear Debbie,

thank you for not cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year.

I shall live to see another day....

 

 

You're welcome, bud.

One good bird spared, in the name of Thanksgiving for one.

You're so very welcome.

 

While it isn't the classic portrait of the

Great American Gratitude Celebration

here is what my Thanksgiving is going to look like this year:

 

 

Take out.

I'm going to stop at the deli on Wednesday night after work

ask the nice Chinese guys to fill a couple of foam containers

with a bit of Sesame Chicken, rice and a little egg drop soup,

grab a couple of movies from RedBox

and go home to my dog.

 

Yep.

While every other person in the entire

United States of America

will be gathered in tastefully appointed dining rooms

around big, food-laden tables

holding hands with their family members

and laughing gaily

like something straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting

 

 

I will be sitting home

by myself

petting my dog

and watching Harrison Ford

protect his family from terrorists.

 

That's just the way it is this year.

And I'll probably drink some Bailey's.

 

 

Because that's my favorite way to end any good evening.