The thing I love most about Thanksgiving at my parents’, besides my dad’s amazing 15-dish feast, is the conversation around the table.  One of this year’s topics was ex-boyfriends, and my mom chimed in that 95% of mine were clinically insane.  (To be fair, she is basing this on my own cynical diagnoses from the past.)

“I’m not surprised,” came Doug’s two cents, mouth crammed with stuffing.  “You’ve always been a magnet for psychos.”

I believe this is one of those jokes that write themselves, no?

Last night, I was certainly not thankful for three boisterous children laughing, screaming and jumping on their beds until after 10:00.

This morning, I am thankful that they are sleeping in.

Ahhhh….to be the only one awake in the house at 7 a.m.  I haven’t experienced this since Erika Mckgillicuddy stuck her head under her pillow in a tiny dorm room in North Carolina, moaning, “Can’t you eat out in the hall?!?”

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

If your attention is called toward a character’s tattoo, piece of jewelry or unusual article of clothing, brace yourself.  That character is gonna get it.  And it won’t be pretty.

First someone turns the neighborhood into a scene from Grand Theft Pumpkin. Then, further down the street, someone has vandalized a campaign billboard, etching a Hitler mustache on Greg Piecuch. Two blocks away, $600K worth of marijuana removed during a drug bust. Simsbury, you’re finally starting to feel like home.