I have noticed recently a number of people being thankful. Some are posting what they are thankful for to Facebook. Some are making lists. I on the other hand, am feeling guilty for doing neither. Therefore, bear with me dear reader, for I am about to unleash thankfulness all over this blog.
I am thankful for indoor plumbing, furnaces and air-conditioning. I am thankful for winter, so I do not have to mow the lawn, and summer so I do not have to shovel the driveway. I am thankful for bread, since I like sandwiches. (Have you ever tried to eat a sandwich without the bread? It is messy and unfulfilling.) In fact, eating a breadless sandwich makes me thankful for silverware.
Most of all, I am thankful for my family and their sense of humor. Some people say that humor is a result of environment; I believe it is genetic. Both my grandfather and my father enjoyed waiting until someone had a drink poised at their lips before they said something utterly unexpected. This caused the intended victim to spew the contents of their mouth all over, causing even more riotous laughter. I, for one, have stayed far away from this gag, since I hate the end result of clean up.
This bent towards practical pranks was passed on to my brother. He would get up in the middle of the night and rubber band the cupboard door handles together. My poor mother would wake up early in the morning, stumble to the kitchen, without turning the lights on, for coffee, and open a cupboard door, just to have it inexplicably slam closed. Another favorite prank of my brother’s was to adjust the clips that hold cups on the drain rack. He would push them just far enough back so that when placing a cup upon them, the cup would catch, but not slide onto the clip. My mother would growl from the kitchen as she readjusted all the clips so she could set cups on them.
Mom has been waiting for her chance at revenge for years. Now she is getting it. My brother has his own child, a daughter. Let the revenge begin.
Back to thankfulness. One Thanksgiving, we were at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Grandma announced that since it was a special occasion, she was going to use her fine china plates. Of course the girls in the family were all a twitter (no, not that twitter, the other one). The guys were less excited, they were more concerned about important stuff like, turkey, mashed potatoes and football. While the tables were set, one of my girls kept inquiring about the china plates and then about the fine glasses Grandma was putting out. She then asked, “Grandma, are we going to use the china silverware too?”
Grandma answered that we were going to use the regular silverware since she did not have any china silverware. At this point Middlest, who was about five at the time, chimed in, “Humph, it is a good thing Grandma doesn’t have china silverware since none of us know how to use chopsticks.”