Thanksgiving White Trash Style

One might think I were complaining. But honestly I am not.




This is what the Thanksgiving "table" looked like this year. Normally, Mom and Dad would travel to Aunties in Gotham City for a gourmet, festive, feast surrounded by many of my favorite people. Problem? We pugs would be home. Alone. We usually get some token warmed over "doggy bag" when they arrive home, late, after our regularly scheduled dinner hour. Not the case this year. Mom's work schedule left little time for travel this year. A trip to New York would have been had on little sleep, only to turn back around, desert barely past the pyloric sphincter, to be home for the next shift. No one wants that. Not Mom, not Dad, not Auntie, or any of her lovely guests. And, quite frankly, not me. I much preferred this years arrangements. A nice warm fire, NFL football on the tube, smells of turkey, stuffing and pie wafting through the air, and freshly sliced, warm, juicy turkey. Fresh from the oven, served on tv trays. It was heavenly. Did I mention that the remainder of the day provided a warm lap of your choice? Yeah, life is good. I hope you all had a fabulous day. We are all sleeping off the tryptophan. Go Pats!