Thanksgiving, chapter 1

It was a wonderful five day weekend filled with more events than you can imagine. Since this week will be relatively dull in comparison, I'll just take my time re-telling the events of the holiday.

Wednesday we drove to Waco and spent the day doing a lot of nothing. We enjoyed the fact that we could rest and not be stuck with a to do list. About 3:30 we realized that while we usually spend the day baking so we'll be ready for the big feast, we had done nothing but snack on the cheese ball and sit around talking. I take that back - I ate a LOT of ham. It was yummy and the stupidly put the tray right in front of me. I nibbled while we talked and laughed and next thing we knew, all the ham was gone. (Sorry you didn't get much Dad! Should have come home sooner!)

Around 3:30 we started to bake the cornbread for the dressing, but didn't feel terribly motivated. So we went back to talking. We might have played a game or two. Because of our laid-back attitudes we were up until 1:30 or 2:00 working on pies and bread dough and other assorted and assundry delicious things. We were tired, but we loved it.

When we finally went to bed D.J. and I crashed. Hard. I can't remember the last time I slept that hard on a pull out sofa. Sadly, it was not to last. At 5:30 in the morning I woke up with a raging bladder infection. I haven't had one since I was four, so I had no clue what was going on for several hours. I just knew how much I hurt. At 8:00, we busted out the iPhone and did some research. We decided it was either a bladder infection, I had an STD, or I'd stuck the bar of soap too far up my Whoops-a-Daisy! (Yes, really. Those are the three most common answers found on Google when you ask why it hurts when you pee.) We quickly ruled out the last two options and decided that I needed anti-biotics fast. I haven't been sick since moving to Forney, so I called the clinic I went to when I lived in Waco. Amazingly, the doctor on call was my old doctor who knew me VERY well. He called in an anti-biotic and something to help with the pain. It turned out that this "pain pill" was formerly used as an industrial dye. Somewhere along the line, some genius decided to ingest the stuff and discovered that it made his bladder stop the painful spasms associated with infection. It also turns your pee the color of a neon sign. Over the course of the next few days, every single member of the family joined me in the bathroom to see the amazing, glowing pee! It was truly delightful. The fact that I was taking an industrial dye proved to be the source of quite a few jokes and interesting conversations. Who decided that it was a good idea to swallow bread mold? Or to cook the white thing a chicken poops out? Or to drink the stuff that shoots out of a cow? Seriously?
I'll end chapter one here. To sum up, no sleep. Lots of talking and laughing. One round of industrial dye. I love family time!