A mother who taught me the importance of a homemade pie crust, and a father who perfected the art of applying vanilla ice cream to a piece of pie.
Streusel topping for when the top crust just doesn't come together.
A daughter who loves to bake, who's almost old enough to bake things by herself, but who still asks questions like, "This says I need three-slash-four cups of sugar...how much is three-slash-four?"
Another daughter who is finally old enough to play games that require reading, but who is still young enough to say "cimmanon" and "bekfrast."
A job to go to, even when I have to go there the day before Thanksgiving.
A house to live in, no matter how messy.
The internet, so I don't have to go shopping for reals tomorrow.
In-laws who have always welcomed me with open arms, and who gave me the job of making desserts, rather than vegetables, for Thanksgiving dinner.
Two sisters and a brother who feel close even when we're far apart.
A husband who always makes me laugh, and who tolerates me when I'm not in a laughing mood.
Happy Thanksgiving to you!
Mallory was invited for a sleepover tonight; this morning, as she was packing her suitcase, Phoebe came in and said, "Me too!" When Chris found her suitcase, and gently told her that she wasn't invited to the sleepover, she cried for an hour. I think I'll always have a special sort of sympathy for Phoebe, my second child, because I was the second child too*. (And it's odd, because although I have younger siblings as well, I always think of myself as a little sister, or as the younger older sister, if that makes sense. I think that's because Jana, my big sister, was so good at being the oldest, responsible and, uh, authoritarian, and I am, well, fundamentally irresponsible. We all bowed to her! In a good way. I could never live up to that.) I often feel sorry for Phoebe, left behind while Mallory goes to school all day, because I well remember the long, lonely boring days I spent waiting for Jana to come home from school (not counting the days I spent playing i...
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