Mortifying Modus Operandi

Don’t embarrass me!

Um, helllooo!?!

I’m not the one sitting there, scratching my crotch at the table during breakfast.

Is it my fault your school requested that parents join their child in class to help guide them through the increasingly intricate course selection process, complete with 4-year plans and endorsements?

What kind of monster do you think I am?

And what kind of horrifying feats do you think I’ll manage to pull off in the 60 minutes I’m there, anyway?

Attempt to spoon-feed you your lunch?

Or show up in fishnet stockings and skanky heels?

Or worse yet, come crashing into your classroom on roller skates…in my pajamas?

Hashtag whatever.

Or perhaps I might discuss puberty/body odor/your latest crush loudly in front of all your classmates?

Or do some sort of ridiculous robot dance while singing a cringe-worthy Justin Bieber song at the top of my lungs?

Or lick your messy desk clean?

Or…

Maybe I’ll just wait for the perfect opportunity to declare:

You got an F on that test? An F?!? That’s it. Mama gonna go all gangsta on yo ass!

Right.

As fun as these scenarios might appear in my mind…

I can’t even.

As a natural introvert, I can assure you I will not be going out of my way to even talk to anyone, let alone cause chaos.

And as a self-respecting member of society, I don’t typically speak like that.

Ever.

Well, except maybe when I’m hangry.

I also wouldn’t purposely embarrass my kids, but ish happens.

Besides, if anything mortifying were to happen, consider it payback for all those unfortunate incidents where I wished for nothing more than the mercy of getting sucked into a black hole.

So just remember this:

I could be worse.

I could be much, much worse.

After all, I’m a badass black belt, dirt bike-riding, humor-writing Mom.

I’m cool AF.

Yaasss, I’m totally killin’ it.

So don’t be salty, bruh!

(Is that a thing?)

~Happy Friday! Thanks for stopping by and slinging some serious slang with me today. Have an amazing weekend!~

It's tough being a teenager. And an adult. Hell, life is rough for everyone.

It’s tough being a teenager. And an adult. Hell, life is rough for everyone.

The Video Gaming Vortex

Some things get infinitely better with time, while other things seem to do the exact opposite.

One thing’s for certain:

Time can majorly mess with dormant gaming skills.

Clearly, I haven’t been playing video games anywhere near enough lately.

I recently discovered that I now totally suck at video games.

It’s true.

I’ve somehow gotten to the point where I now lose frequently… to any and every opponent.

The horror!

Not only have I been playing poorly, but my hands actually ache afterward from the determined death-grip I inflict upon my controller.

But determination alone still doesn’t stop me from losing.

I hate losing.

And more importantly, I’m far too young to be losing this badly.

Whatever happened to the days of being a badass Video Game Master?

I used to rule Old School.

And now?

I am undisputedly the worst player in my house.

Possibly even the worst player in my neighborhood.

Okay, so that may not be entirely true.

Surely, there must be at least a handful of electronically inept 90-year-olds who would do worse.

But seriously, where did I go wrong?

Modern games have become my worst nightmare.

I used to be able to defeat every last Goomba, Koopa, and Hammer Brother in record time on my quest to rescuing Princess Toadstool from that evil jerk Bowser, who had nowhere to go but down.

Down, down, down, into the fiery lava.

Which, apparently, is where all my gaming skills have ended up.

Super Mario Galaxy makes me feel like I’d just downed a few cases of liquor and then repeatedly smacked my head into a concrete wall before hitting the power button on the console.

And let’s talk about Rainbow Road.

Notorious for being a highly challenging level on Mario Kart, it’s only gotten more complicated over the years.

Naturally.

Especially now, with all the nauseating, seizure-inducing graphics that cause me to barrel off into a black hole in a fit of rage from all the flashing acid-trip type effects.

Mario Kart has evolved to the point where it makes me sick to my stomach as I drive my stylishly customized kart backward, off cliffs, and straight into the oblivion of dead-last place.

Don’t get me wrong, all of these incredibly realistic 3D graphics are astonishingly impressive.

They also make me wanna hurl.

I sometimes miss the days of 2D, where I wouldn’t become nauseated from inadvertently spinning myself sick in just a matter of minutes.

I’m naturally bad with directions as it is, so I really don’t need the additional challenge of getting lost for all eternity on a convulsion-inducing level of some infuriating game.

But all is not lost.

Super Smash Bros is one of the few games I do seem to excel at lately.

I suspect this stems solely from the joy of clobbering big bullies like Donkey Kong and Ganondorf with unassumingly cute characters like Yoshi and Kirby.

But even so, there are times when I get embarrassingly decimated by a highly skilled, child-controlled Jigglypuff.

Mortifying, I tell you.

I’m compelled to blame my unimpressive losing streak on my older brother.

Sure, it was years ago, but I firmly believe that always being stuck as the dreaded Player 2 as a child clearly accounts for my overall lack of game playing time.

By the time I’d finally be about to get my turn after watching my brother play Super Mario Bros for 57 straight minutes, he’d be so pissed about (finally) losing a life on level 8-3 that he’d reset the game and start all over.

I usually had to wait until he left the house altogether to even get a turn.

I suppose there’s also the remote possibility my skills have deteriorated due to my penchant for not being able to sit still for very long.

As an adult, there’s always this overwhelming inclination to get stuff done.

No time to sit idle when there’s so much to do!

But surely that can’t be the issue here.

Nah.

It probably has a lot more to do with the fact that kids are practically born with electronic devices in each hand nowadays.

Or maybe I just need to get more sleep.

At any rate, I guess this means it’s time to return to my Old School roots and start playing like a boss again so I can get back to kicking some butt.

Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start…

Konami Code, help me!

Mario has kept up with the times. I, on the other hand, have some serious catching up to do.

Mario has kept up with the times. I, on the other hand, have some serious catching up to do.

Carrots, Cheetos, and Kangaroos

Woo hoo! It’s Friday!

Oh, alright.

For those of you harboring superstitions, let’s forget about the fact that today is actually Friday the 13th.

Let’s focus instead on the fact that Valentine’s Day is just over a month away!

That’s right, it’s time to start spreading the love!

And in the spirit of Comically Quirky, I plan to accomplish this in the quirkiest way possible:

By combining the joy of poetry with my disturbingly creative motivational lunch note-writing awesomeness, of course!

Now, I don’t honestly know what I would do with a kangaroo.

Or a canoe, kazoo, or cockatoo.

But it’s the principle of the matter at stake here.

Trading something orange for something orange is cool by me…if that something happens to actually be an orange.

Not something artificially dyed a radioactive shade of orange with an assortment of health-compromising, life-shortening capabilities.

Geez, kid!

For that major lapse of judgment, you’ll be getting extra carrots in your lunch next week.

And you’d better eat them.

ALL of them.

On second thought, maybe I ought to start preparing for that kangaroo…

~Happy Friday the 13th! Hope you all have a terrific weekend!~

Purposefully Perplexed

Sometimes I have to wonder why I was put on this earth.

Well, one thing is for certain:

It sure as hell wasn’t for my domestic skills.

The world probably isn’t deficient in people who are disturbingly proficient at folding fitted sheets by rolling them into big, blobulous balls of fabric.

So that can’t possibly be it.

Hmmm…

Is it solely for my ability to load and unload the dishwasher?

Granted, I do a commendable job of balancing creativity and efficiency by cramming the crap out of the dishwasher with my mad Tetris skills.

But I can’t imagine that could possibly be it, either.

With the start of a new year, my brain has been doing that thing again.

You know, that thing where it encourages deeper and more intense thinking about…things.

Like purpose.

And I do contemplate my purpose, from time to time.

But mostly, I just try to get through the day without major disaster, chaos, or injury.

It’s the little things, right?

But getting back to purpose.

If I sit down and think about all the things I routinely manage to accomplish in the course of a day…

Chauffeuring kids to school in a crazed frenzy?

Running/folding a dozen loads of laundry?

Pushing the vacuum around the house?

Emptying overflowing trash?

Yeah, not very inspiring.

And these things definitely don’t hold much potential in the way of achieving a sense of purpose.

Oh, well.

Some of the more promising options on my list:

Unclogging the toilet during dinner?

(Thanks, boys! Can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.)

Being used for Nerf target practice while carrying a stack of fancy plates?

(I suppose a good challenge never hurt anyone…)

Slamming baseballs over the fence to flaunt my awesomeness?

(I am pretty good at hitting things.)

Making people laugh with my offbeat humor?

(Now we’re talking!)

If I was put on this earth to share the gift of humor through my writing, I’d be most honored.

But if that’s not my true purpose, I can only hope it’s not because I’m on track to becoming the World’s Best Toilet-Unclogger.

~Happy Friday, friends! Hope the first week of the new year has been treating you well!~

What's your superpower? I mean, purpose?

What’s your superpower? I mean, purpose?

Marginal New Year’s Motivation

Happy (almost) New Year!

Speaking of the new year…

I don’t have any New Year’s resolutions.

And I’m far too exhausted from all the…fun and excitement…of 2016 to make any right now.

At any rate, here are a dozen useful pieces of New Year’s resolution advice to start the year off with a bang:

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(Having realistic goals and expectations will help start the new year off right and prevent you from being an instant failure two days in to the year.)

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(That’s the spirit! Way to embrace your amazing self, imperfections and all.)

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(If you make any resolutions at all this coming year, this ought to be it.)

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(This is a great way to take the pressure off. If you succeed in somehow bettering yourself, great. If you don’t, nothing lost. It’s a win-win!)

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(Go big or go home, right? So why not aim to fail in the grandest of manners?)

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(Ah, so that’s what all the fuss is about? A week-long To Do list? When you look at it that way, it really doesn’t sound so daunting.)

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(What a terrific idea! Everything about it has the makings of a successful business concept.)

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(For those of you with kids, it is particularly imperative to set goals that are practical, attainable, and won’t drive you to drinking in the event of miserly defeat.)

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(Nothing beats the feeling of knowing that all your friends are rooting for your failure. Oh well. Who needs them, anyway? The resolutions, that is. Not the friends. Friends are good. Well, mostly.)

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(Some of us struggle with being able to identify realistic goals. It happens. Fortunately, there’s always someone who’s eager to help set the record straight.)

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(Hey, now! Being a smart-ass is a talent, not a bad vice that needs to be obliterated. Geez!)

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(Now this I can handle! Being awesome is…well, awesome! Always choose to be awesome.)

Whether or not you end up making any resolutions for the new year, just remember this:

Stay positive, keep smiling, and always try to find the humor in whatever life throws your way.

~Happy Friday, friends! Best wishes for a bright and prosperous 2017!~

The 12 Days of Crazed Christmas Coercions: The Reboot

On the twelfth day of Christmas,

Santa’s rogue elves sent to me:

Twelve crazy boys howling in cacophony.

Okay, fine.

I have only two boys, not twelve.

But sometimes, with all the sugar-fueled insanity of the season, it’s hard to believe this chaos isn’t caused by a busload of boys.

What makes matters even more humorous is the apparent lack of understanding of what exactly it means to be “good.”

Does calling your brother a freak instead of a jerk constitute acceptable behavior?

Or what about whacking said brother over the head with a soft-covered graphic novel…instead of a baseball bat?

Is that good(ish) behavior?

Sigh.

Well, if nothing else, we all know by now that everything in life is subject to relativity.

On that note…

Presenting a dozen thoughts that have gone through my head (or actually come out of my mouth) during holiday seasons over the years.

1) You really think you’ve been good enough to even receive coal!?! Ha!

2) Define “good.”

3) I told Santa you thought you’ve been good this year. He cracked a rib laughing.

4) One word for you: Krampus

5) Santa is watching. Well yeah, I guess technically that means Krampus is watching, too…

6) Fine. Be naughty. Santa would be happy to save himself a trip!

7) The moment you stop believing is the moment you start receiving socks and underwear. Remember that!

8) No, I’m not sure why Santa likes cookies so much. Yes, he’s a “big dude.”

9) No, we will not create a special chimney for Santa. He can go through the door like every other respectable human being.

10) Sorry, no. Putting you in time out will not cement my place alongside you on the naughty list.

11) One more word and we’ll pack up your toys and donate them all to kids in need. Seriously, knock it off! Or we’ll donate you, too.

12) Yeah, I know you’re having visions of sugar plums. Visions of throwing them at my head, perhaps? (Come on. We all know nobody actually eats those things.)

~Ho, ho, ho! Happy Thursday and Merry Christmas to you all, my wonderful friends! May your holiday be full of joy and happiness.~

Santa knows a lie when he hears one, so don't bother trying to fool him. Bribery, on the other hand, just might do the trick...

Santa knows a lie when he hears one, so don’t bother trying to fool him. Bribery, on the other hand, just might do the trick…

Reindeer Games

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and all through Santa’s workshop,

 The reindeer were busy plotting mischief and mayhem.

It’s true, Santa gets most of the glory.

But what about those hard-working reindeer?

They shoulder the bulk of the burden, carrying the weight of Santa and his gazillion tons of toys all around the world in a single night.

That’s no small feat, and it’s little wonder those creatures love their reindeer games so much.

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(The jolly ol’ dude’s weight has always been a delicate topic, but the reindeer aren’t known for their diplomacy.)

 reindeer4

(Hauling Santa’s donut-shoveling corpse around is more strenuous than hauling 386 sacks of toys at once.)

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(A GPS can only get you so far, especially when the reindeer have been tampering with it. While this mishap may not be the best example of a good time for all, it probably breaks up the monotony of  a long night.)

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(Who can blame these reindeer for wanting to make the most of this opportunity for mischief? Although frankly, I’m surprised Santa doesn’t get himself stuck every single time he crams himself down one of those things.)

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(Reindeer work hard and deserve a break! Which evidently involves partying hard and accidentally impaling Santa’s elves…)

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(Modern technology has done wonders in taking a huge load off Santa’s back.)

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(I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the… oops, the sky is the other direction! Well, so much for that…)

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(While the burden of hauling a five billion-ton sleigh falls on the reindeer, Santa gets his workout by sucking it all in and repeatedly diving in and out of strangers’ chimneys in the middle of the night.)

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(Your reindeer are begging you to put that donut down! In the spirit of the holidays, don’t be such a glutton!)

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(In such a role reversal, do the reindeer now hop out of the sleigh to slide down chimneys and deliver the toys? Or does Santa still have to do that, in addition to his newly assigned duty of pulling the sleigh?)

 reindeer2

(This is one of the sounds of the season, surely?)

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(Hey, if the shoe fits… Ho, ho, hole! Merry Christmas!)

~Happy Friday, friends! If you’re looking for an inspirational (and humorous!) new blog to follow, please check out Playing by My Own Rules. Have an awesome weekend!~

Santa Dearest

Ho ho ho!

It’s time to start thinking about which list you’ve managed to land yourself on this year!

What’s that?

You’ve been a perfect angel?

Ha!

Who are you kidding?

Surely, you do know Santa sees you when you’re sleeping.

And he knows when you’re awake.

Oh, and he also watches your every move…

365 days a year.

Okay, so he’s basically a generous gift-giving stalker, when you think about it.

Anyway, let’s see what kind of sorry excuses we can come up with for our less than saintly behavior this year, shall we?

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(Everything in life is relative, and therefore subject to opinion. So, who knows? Santa may well have flexible guidelines. Or low standards.)

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(Again, another matter of relativity. But seriously, what criteria must one meet to even qualify for Santa’s nice list?)

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(Just as well. If you’re holding out hope for a fantastic gift, you’d be better off buying it yourself in the first place, anyway.)

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(I can confidently say I’ve been both naughty-ish and nice-ish this year. With that said, does this mean I’ve been good enough to deserve a present or two, or should I be expecting a stocking full of coal?)

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(Nah, it’s never too late! Unless it’s already Christmas morning, in which case, yeah, you’re probably out of luck…)

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( If you’re getting coal this Christmas, why not at least have the satisfaction of knowing you’ve truly earned it for a job well done?)

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(Naughtily nice. Now there’s an oxymoronic concept. Well, I suppose if you’re going to do something, might as well put a little extra effort in and do it well.)

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(Oh, little minion. With all the antics and mayhem you’ve caused, you probably haven’t even been good enough to receive coal this year!)

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(Excellent point. No need to over-explain things to the point where you land yourself right back on that naughty list.)

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(Now we’re talking! This is totally true! Okay, probably true. Maybe true? Augh!)

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(Look, if he wants to drop by in the wee hours of the night, the least he could do is clean up after himself. Is that really so unreasonable?)

(Take that, Santa! Serves you right for even thinking about putting me on the naughty list!)

Poor Santa.

He tries so hard to bring joy to people all over the world, and we all struggle to conduct ourselves like decent human beings for more than 24 hours at a time.

On second thought…

Look at it this way:

Being naughty saves Santa a trip.

So you’d actually be doing him a huge favor by adding more mischief into your daily routine.

Especially since you’re ultimately gonna end up buying your own presents anyway.

~Happy Friday! Hope you all have a holly jolly weekend!~

O Christmas Tree

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,

Thy poor leaves must be horrified!

I mean, for crying out loud!

It just occurred to me that our Christmas tree is a total mishmash of chaos and insanity.

In other words, it’s very well-suited to my family.

It’s official:

The train has come off the track.

And I mean that in the most literal sense.

Seriously, the Christmas train at the base of my tree has apparently decided to take a detour straight to the joyous Land of Derailment.

At any rate, we’ve sure managed to amass quite the collection of ornamental Christmas chaos over the years.

This tree is not lacking in character(s) or personality.

Everyone in my family has a Baby’s First Christmas ornament.

Except for me.

My boys each have multiples.

My husband has a couple of his own, too.

Even my older brother’s Baby’s First Christmas ornament hangs on our tree…and he doesn’t even live with us.

Guess there’s some truth to the notion about the first-born getting all the love and the good stuff in life.

Oh well.

Enough of that pity party.

Let’s talk so more about those ornaments on my tree, shall we?

There’s a light saber-bearing Darth Vader positioned strategically next to an unarmed Gingerbread Man.

And Thor wields his infamous hammer between Tinkerbell and Rainbow Brite.

Marvin the Martian’s ray gun points straight at a lovey-dovey Mickey and Minnie pair with a Batmobile hot on their tails, while Taz chills precariously next to a delicate Eiffel Tower.

Then there’s Baby Jesus, who’s surrounded by a peaceful cluster of angels…along with the Energizer Bunny, Thomas the Train, Jack Skellington, and a one-eyed Cookie Monster.

Who decorated this thing, anyway?

And let’s not forget about my son’s favorite Tom Brady ornament.

Fortunately, our tree is not inflatable. Otherwise, we might have a scandal on our hands.

Good thing Hulk is right there beside him to keep an eye on him.

And then there’s the candy canes.

Adding a rainbow of color to the tree are a lovely assortment of artificial goodness in the form of festive candy canes.

They’re at least a year or two old, though, so I hope nobody actually tries to eat them.

(Note to self: Google “Do candy canes go bad?”)

Oh, but the fun isn’t just inside!

Our adorable lighted outdoor polar bear is passed out on the front lawn beside Charlie Brown and the rest of the Peanuts gang.

Probably from too much holiday excitement!

Or not.

I can’t be sure if it’s the wind or the spirit of the season that’s already taking its toll on him.

Looks like we could both use a drink right about now…

~Happy Friday, and Happy December! Hope you all have a joyous weekend!~

I think my train is coming off its track... Never mind, it's already too late.

I think my train is coming off its track… Never mind, it’s already too late.

Merry Gobble Gobble Day!

Turkeys totally love me!

It’s true.

As a vegetarian, I pose absolutely zero threat to those poor fellows.

But enough about that.

Let’s kick the day off with a little humor, shall we?

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(Even if he can’t pass for a ghost, he may at least be able to pass as an albino turkey. And who the heck wants to eat that?)

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(Um, hello!?! Surely the alarms in your turkey-brained head must be blaring by now!)

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(Sorry to break it to you, but sometimes the truth hurts.)

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(When you put it that way, it does sound more like a day at the spa, rather than the one-way ticket to inferno that it really is. But hey, enjoy that rubdown!)

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(Save your breath, little turkey. You couldn’t pay me enough to make me want to eat you. Consider it my early Christmas present to you.)

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(Bet that grass is looking like a pretty appealing option right about now.)

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(Sure, but don’t get too complacent. Traditions can change over time, you know.)

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(Presumably, eating and being stuffed from the other end are not exactly one and the same.)

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(I swear, the need for posting every single thing on social media can get a little out of hand sometimes. Find a better hobby, turkey! On second thought, don’t worry about that right now…)

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(Excellent point. Much like Columbus Day, Thanksgiving is yet another holiday of questionable origins.)

What exactly is it that we are celebrating, again?

Okay, okay.

Truly, Thanksgiving is a time to enjoy spending with family and friends, celebrating the multitude of reasons to be thankful, today and every day.

Because there are always reasons to be grateful in this life.

~Happy Thanksgiving, my friends! Hope you all have a wonderful day, whether you choose to celebrate with tofu or turkey. Or a Tofurky. I promise I won’t judge! ~