Every Thanksgiving, Austin participates in a pickup Turkey Bowl football game on the Norwich rugby field with young men from our church and various folks from the community. We woke up this morning to four inches of fresh snow and freezing wind. But traditions must go on! Here's my crazy husband wearing cross country ski boots and gaiters, several layers of shirts and pants, and a warm hat. He grabbed his scuba gloves from the barn and headed out to play. He came back happy two hours later, full of stories about how he schooled the youngsters again.
I stayed home and built up the fire. Some friends had invited us to dinner so I didn't have much cooking to do. But I did get out the traditional Charlie Brown Thanksgiving feast for the kids: jelly beans, pretzels, popcorn, and toast. My kids won't eat turkey, or stuffing, or even mashed potatoes, and rather than being frustrated by this I've decided to just embrace new food traditions.
So the kids were happy with their junk food Thanksgiving, and Austin was happy about getting tackled over and over into the snow. As for me, I was pretty happy today too. I came downstairs to find this note on the silverware rack of the dishwasher, which had been mysteriously emptied without my asking:
Now THAT'S a tradition I can really get behind!
