Blimp Friday

Just about everyone world-wide is familiar with the US term “Black Friday“. This is the most celebrated shopping day on the calendar and it is the day after Thanksgiving. If merchants don’t make a major haul with sales on this day, the rest of the Christmas shopping season will look like the Grinch who stole Christmas. 
What most people give little reference to is Blimp Friday. This is the same day as Black Friday, but it a bit more personal. This is the day when everyone realizes they ate more than a teenage boy who has toked a few funny joints to survive the family gathering. Thanksgiving evening and the day after, people try to rent themselves out as the new Goodyear Blimp, swearing they are never going to eat again, at least not for the next two weeks. This manages to truncate to less than 4 hours in reality when that turkey sandwich on gooey white bread with Hellmann’s Real Mayonnaise is screaming your name from the fridge.
We worked diligently at polishing off our Thanksgiving dinner. Sharing our table was W. Hunter Roberts, a Swedenborg minister, Melissa and Scott Rank, and our B and B guest Vidor. Vidor is originally from the Philippines but now lives in New Jersey. Our turkey came cooked and stuffed from Culinaris, the gourmet grocery store and it ran 6 1/2 kg. (14 lbs) after being cooked. We were expecting two others, but they were held up in Prague. Prior to sitting down to  the dinner table, our gullets were prepped with hot artichoke dip, assorted crackers and goat cheese all washed down with some Asti Spumanti, donated by one of my students. Once at the dinner table, accompanying the turkey was a mountain of mashed potatoes, a bog of cranberries of various types, a canal of sweet potato casserole, boats of Brussels sprout mash, rivers of gravy, and enough stuffing for three life sized teddy bears.
Before a single fork was dislodged from its place, Ron had prearranged for Hunter to do a communion. She brought a loaf of bread, said a prayer and broke the bread passing it around to share. As tradition dictates, she did the same with a glass of wine. Ron had a copy of this prayer for anyone who wanted to recite it with him.
Prayer for Peace
God of many names, lover of all peoples; we pray for peace in our nations and in our world.
We pray for all who have the awesome responsibility of power and decision-making.
We pray for the innocent victims of violence and war.
Lead us and all the people of the world from death to life, from falsehood to truth.
Lead us from despair to hope, from fear to trust.
Lead us from hate to love, from war to peace.
Let peace and justice fill our hearts, our world, our universe.       Amen
Though none of this is something I would have chosen, it seemed to make all the rest content, so it didn’t ruffle my feathers on this lovely holiday of sharing. As the dinner progressed, as we shared stories of holidays past spent with families, some rather hysterical while others bordered on OMG, I realized a new business idea. 
Remember you saw it here first. Announcing the new Family Holiday Warning Labels. Why waste time and embarrassment when you bring friends or new romances home to meet the family for a holiday? With my new offering, no one is caught off guard. As you walk in the door you slap the appropriate label on the forehead of each family member. 
Nephew Timmy: Normally a pleasant ten year-old child, but when over excited, he will bite your ankles.
Aunt Maude: Never stops talking about how much she misses her long dead husband who she hated when he was alive.  
Uncle Henry: Has dementia and may whip out his penis without warning.  
Great Aunt Minnie: If she tells you she can play a wind instrument, don’t ask her to demonstrate her talent.
Mother: Still striving to look twenty-eight, she believes her breasts continue to be firm and will offer to let you squeeze them if you are good. 
Grandfather:  Will rest his dentures on the dinner table between courses after he flicks them in the hair to loosen food particles.
All in all, it was a wonderful evening of sharing.
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