My Cup Runneth Over!

I am preparing for Thanksgiving with my family. This consists of squirreling away booze and mentally tabulating a list of things that I am thankful for, beer, wine, vodka, tequila. . .

My brother and I always try to ruin Thanksgiving, at least according to my mother. Two years ago one of us "Bastard Children" stole her gravy boat. I think that her exact quote was "You bastard children are always stealing from me and now you stole MY GRAVY BOAT!"

"Mom, how can we be bastards? We just saw our dad last night?"

"Just get up here and help me look for the god damned gravy boat that one of you stole."

"How can we find a gravy boat if we stole it?"

One dirty look from my mother can launch a thousand ships. I climb on the ladder for fear of my life to dig through the nice dishes for the stolen gravy boat. I glare at my brother and accuse him of stealing the gravy boat, that bastard beat me to the punch, he ruined Thanksgiving - damn! We didn't have a gravy boat that wreched wreched Thanksgiving. Bastard Thanksgiving Ruiner sat there so smug and basked in his stolen gravy boat radiance.

This year when we go around the table and say what we are thankful for, I am going to say that I am thankful that we are having gravy from a bowl and not a god damned gravy boat. I am not going to let my brother beat me to the punch. Perhaps I could be Thankful that we all don't have horrible explosive poop, or that we aren't all retarded and homeless.

Pass the wine.