Fire extinguisher
* * *
Valium
* * *
Cigars (for somebody)
* * *
Flowers (for somebody)
* * *
Ouija Board (to try to figure out what this year’s forbidden topic is)
* * *
Shovel (for the inevitable shit)
* * *
Salt (for good luck)
* * *
Salt (for Aunt Hattie’s dismally bland mashed potatoes)
* * *
A fancy car to drive up in (borrow if necessary)
* * *
Green beans (prepare beforehand)
* * *
Excuses (prepare beforehand)
* * *
A joke (doesn’t matter if it’s good, no one will laugh anyway)
* * *
Tradition (stories – again – of you, naked on the pony. Joy.)
* * *
Perpetual optimism (purchase early, most stores run out fast)
* * *
At least one political comment (this should get you off the hook for at least twenty minutes)
* * *
Reusable parentheses (because almost everything about your life requires context)
* * *
Hope (a necessary ingredient for staring blankly at the future. Goes stale quickly, must continually top off)
* * *
A hat (to wear when you excuse yourself from the table for a minute and come back in, shivering, an hour later)
* * *
An offhand comment (that tests the fabric of your family structure. This is required, so be prepared)
* * *
A secret (but not yours. Someone else’s. You already know why this is on the list…)
* * *
A girlfriend or boyfriend (Or both. Because it’s impossible to know what anyone wants these days)
* * *
Patience (often in short supply, bring extra)
* * *
Love (usually in abundant – but misguided – supply. Bring extra anyway. Like cinnamon: can’t have enough love around)
* * *
Blessings (you need these all the time anyway, like AA batteries, so buy extra)
* * *
And finally, a prayer (a real one), that all of you may be happy, wherever you are on your Thanksgiving Day!
May you be safe.
May you be well.
May you be happy.
May you be free from (Thanksgiving) suffering.
Not kidding: Bless us all, no exceptions.
***end***