Thanks

I love my hair cutter. I have never, never, never gotten a bad haircut from her, and that's saying something because I have this devastating cowlick in the middle of my forehead that has defeated lesser women (I say women because I've only once had a male hairdresser--Chad--and pardon my language, but he totally made that cowlick his bitch.) I remember this one time I went in the beauty parlor next to my office building to get my bangs trimmed and no fewer than 3 women worked on my bangs in the course of a pretty traumatizing 2 hours, and I came out looking like Zack from Saved By the Bell. I very nearly had a Zack Attack.

So, Mindy, I am thankful for you, and I hope your boyfriend manages to find that Tofurkey you wanted. I am also thankful that Odessa is sleeping peacefully even though she has bronchiolitis in her wee, sweet little chest and sounds like she's breathing a milkshake through a straw. I'm also thankful I haven't burned anything yet this evening. And you know what, guys? I'm thankful for you, because you read my blog and give me something to do that doesn't have anything to do with my office or baby poo.

So, happy Thanksgiving, friends. Save travels, and remember, kids--don't talk politics with family.

Ps. Oh, and I'm thankful for my dear friend Catherine Meeks, whose birthday is today. Happy birthday, Puddin. Je t'aime tous les jours.