When your husband is a half breed, you will have to celebrate the American Thanksgiving.
You will have to pretend that you are so excited about the festivities involved.
Like hanging out with family.
You will have to remember to keep your comments to yourself.
Like “Where in the world did you even find a sweater like that?”
Because it will get misconstrued as being a compliment and that you want one just like it.
You will then get one just like it at Christmas.
You will have to wear it.
And you will then visit a second hand store and buy one for your husband.
Because he loved your’s so much.
You will have to train your stomach.
Because your Mother In Law will kill an already dead turkey.
You will argue with your Father In Law that squirrels are not listed in the Canadian Food Guide.
You will turn down moonshine because you’re still drinking from the wine in a box.
That will be your goal of the night.
Your husband will be mad because your speech gets sloppy and you tell everyone that you love them.
But it will be true.
And you will be thankful that you have such a wonderful family.
Mullets, puffy sweaters, and mummified turkey and all.
Happy Thanksgiving ‘Merica.
*Ps. I just found out that my Mother In Law cooked the motherfucking turkey on Saturday. 5 days BEFORE Thanksgiving. I’m not going anywhere near that bird.