I hosted Thanksgiving Dinner at my house yesterday, and I am now 100% in agreement with Lileks:

"I will now make it my goal to
eat Thanksgiving dinner at someone else’s house, forever. The
advantages cannot be overstressed. You get to sleep in; you don’t have
to worry about rising at dawn to deal with yams, or begin the long
process of prepping the fowl for the oven. You don’t have to make the
house presentable, find the leaves for the table, get out the china –
always in a top shelf that require a chair – and you don’t have to
spent as much as a minute reducing vegetables into smaller shapes, or
arranging them in a pleasing fashion.

You just get
in the car and drive to a place where you are forbidden to help. So you
sit by the fire and listen to your stomach growl, but it’s not really a
growl of anger or frustration; more like a purr of anticipation. The
meal appears; the meal is consumed; the plates are removed."

Amen to that.

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