Oh, Thanksgiving. You’re supposed to be an easy holiday. Cook a meal, eat a meal, pass out. Why weren’t you that easy this year?
Jedi awoke yesterday morning in a mood. He was a whining mess from the start. Then, as I tried to make him eat breakfast (he has to have something since he takes insulin or else I would have let it go), he complained of a stomach ache. That migrated to a pain in his ear which he began to cry over. Great, I thought, so now he has an ear infection?
I was able to get him to eat a bit of breakfast, but he complained that his stomach hurt more with every bite. Having a stomach ache on Thanksgiving is kind of like a soccer player breaking their leg on the day of the World Cup. The worst possible time, is what I’m saying. I started to consider canceling.
“I don’t want to eat! I don’t want Thanksgiving!”, he told me between cries.
I gave it a little more time. The pain in his ear thankfully went away but he continued grumbling about his stomach and he looked really worn down. I went ahead and prepared the mashed potatoes I was supposed to make, but called my mom and canceled before they were finished.
Soon after, I gave Jedi a dose of fever reducer. Almost immediately he perked up.
“I want to go to Thanksgiving!”, he declared. Thus, the festivities were back on.
Upon return home, we all passed out in a tryptophan stupor. Before my husband, who was on the road home himself, called to say the transmission went kaput in our car still 3 hours out of town. It was like the Splenda-sweetened icing on an already difficult pumpkin pie.