The Hills Have Diapers (Part 3)

Thanksgiving morning, I began the day as I always do when in child-infested territory.

By dragging my heels.

My wife can attest to the difficulties of dragging me out of bed when I don't want to be out of bed (like before noon on a Saturday or anytime she wants to go outside). Strangely, though, most of my heel dragging did not involve our bed while there.

Because it was killing us.

Strangely, no spiders in bed; only in the showers.

The room we chose had a double bed with, apparently, a single bed's rails to hold it up. When we weren't drowning in the pool of our combined sweat that would form each night in the inescapable pit at the center of the bed, we were actively distressing our backs.

I think it was secretly intentional to keep me from hiding in bed.

Where it's safe.

And the children are only in my nightmares.

My waking nightmares.

After showering with exciting variations in water pressure and temperature, I went downstairs (well, first I dressed) and found that barriers had been erected.

I had to borrow the shotgun from the owner of the farm. (halflife2.net)

I don't mean baby gates, by the way. Well, there was one baby gate, but there was also an overturned couch blocking off the living room.

I was suitably worried.

Throughout the day, while I worked in the kitchen on my addition to the Thanksgiving meal, I found myself saying, "Perimeter breach! Child/canine in the kitchen!"

Speaking of canines, two came with family. Mysteriously by the end there were five.

Not counting the coyotes. (examiner.com)

Due to size constraints—owing less to the room sizes and more to the family size (19 people)—we ate Thanksgiving dinner outside. I learned a valuable lesson from this.

When eating outside in November, prioritize your eating order.

Green beans get cold fast.

No matter how tasty that food may have been when you started, anything with any bit of moisture to it is going to be cold and slimy by the end, which is a real shame when you married into a family of fantastic cooks.

That night, while my father watched football inside, I saw something horrifying outside.

What the heck is that?! (wikipedia)