I was sitting at my mother’s house this morning talking about a few potential blog posts I had whirling around inside of my cranium. I mentioned that I intended to write about Azazel (one of the lords of hell) next, and she gently reminded me that not everyone in the world is as creepy-crawly as I am, and maybe something a little less fucked up on occasion wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“Like what?” I asked.
“How about like what you’re thankful for?”
“But everyone does that. It’s so ordinary.”
“So make it creative,” she said.
Fine. Creative it is.
I’m thankful for this:
This is my step-father’s Thanksgiving day chair. It’s a lawn chair specifically brought into my mother’s gorgeous living room so he can watch football. It’s equipped with all-weather nylon fabric, netting, plastic covered fake metal rods, and two drink holders. On the left you can spy Drew’s beer can. On the right? Is a remote control. Mind you, the channel will not change once the homoerotic ballet that is the Patriots’ game commences, but it’s there like an old friend – a comforting weight in his hand when things get intense. Like the blue people throw themselves at the red people on an imaginary line, and someone has a ball somewhere only I have no idea where. Hrmm. Drew’s screaming. That might be frustration.
Why is this game so confusing?
So, why am I thankful for the football chair? Because it reminds me of how wonderfully, absurdly off-kilter my family is. If you need more proof, take a peek at the little decorator pillow my mother put on the seat. It’s french toile, because Mom said she wanted the chair to blend with the rest of the decor. Yes, a french toile throw pillow on a chair that should – by all accounts – be outside.
There’s other things I’m thankful for – things I’ll call the unsung heroes. Things people don’t usually thank. For starters? Deodorant. Why? Not because I really care about my own stink, but I certainly care about other people’s stink. I thank you, deodorant, for making standing in lines and being on public trains way more palatable.
The same can be said for toothpaste. Nothing’s grosser than someone talking to you, using a lot of h’s and exaggerated vowels, and their breath being sour enough to curdle milk. Crest, Colgate, and Close Up? I salute you. You make me hate people just a little bit less.
I’m thankful for bathroom spray, the smell of a new car, and dryer sheets for making my laundry fluffy. I’m thankful for the convenience of a laptop, over sized coffee mugs, and hot apple cider when it’s cold out. There’s bars of soap, the feeling of crisp sheets on your back, and lemonade in August. The guy that invented the bread bowl for soup? Him. Yes, thank you bread bowl guy.
I’m thankful to granny panties for being so comfortable, having JUST ENOUGH toilet paper left on the roll so there’s no disasters, and busted out old jeans. I’m thankful for pizza delivery, my dvr, and snow blowers. Oh, and neighbors with slow plows who do your driveway when you’re not expecting it. I’m thankful for tweets that unexpectedly make me laugh, Old Spice commercials, and flip flops. I’m thankful to Deep Woods Off, my super limp down pillow, and open windows when there’s a bad smell in the room.
I’m thankful for tissues, commercial free radio hours, and odor eaters. I’m thankful for tweezers and those sponges that have a hard scrubby side and a soft spongey side. I’m thankful for the satisfaction of filling your mouth with whipped cream directly from the can, and cold milk combined with warm cookies.
There’s a whole lot more, I’m sure, but for now . . . thank you unsung heroes of my daily life. Thank you for being -awesome-.