Thanksgiving dinner is over here in Canada, and I’m pretty sure I ate enough food for three people.
Do I regret it?
Not even a little.
There is something about Thanksgiving that makes it completely acceptable to go back for seconds, then thirds, then somehow still find room for dessert. I don’t know where that extra space comes from, but apparently my stomach has a separate compartment reserved specifically for pie.
We had the family over, which meant the house was loud, busy, a little chaotic, and exactly how I like it.
There was food everywhere, people talking over each other, someone always looking for something, and that familiar feeling that the kitchen has somehow become the busiest place in the entire house.
Hosting family is never calm.
It’s hectic.
It’s messy.
And it’s so much fun.
I love having everyone together, even when I’m running around making sure things are ready, checking the food, finding extra chairs, and wondering how there are suddenly twice as many dishes as I remember owning.
Then we all sit down, eat far too much, laugh, talk, and somehow the chaos turns into one of those evenings you wish would last a little longer.
Of course, by the end of the night, I was completely full and ready to sit down for approximately the next six hours.
Worth it.
Absolutely.
I love Thanksgiving for the food, obviously. But I love it even more for having the family together, the noise, the laughter, and all the little moments in between.
Although next year, I may need to pace myself.
Who am I kidding?
Pass the pie.
All the best,
Tia
