Even though pretty much every year my husband works on Thanksgiving, it still really sucks. But this year, my kids are passing around a poorly-timed stomach bug.
So it sucks A LOT.
Though I will say, it's better than what I thought it was.
(Note to self: Never Google symptoms while hormonal because you might give yourself a panic attack and scare the crap out of your kids).
On the bright side, I won't be cooking, that's for sure. But on the down side, I'm living with the fear of getting it myself, which is scaring me shitless.
YAY POOP PUNS FTW!
The irony in all this (oh yes, there is irony) is that in an attempt to have some control in his misery of having to work on a holiday, my husband put in for a trip that gives him Thanksgiving with his own family in Philadelphia.
So he'll be enjoying all the boxed stuffing, canned cranberry, and joyous company of my in-laws while I'll be trying to keep my head out of the toilet.
On second thought, that doesn't sound so bad in comparison. Plus, there's a good chance that if I get it, he will too. And I'd much rather be puking at home than at my in-laws. Or on a plane (which I've done, unfortunately).
And hey, at least I have Edward Cullen to keep me company.