Hommel Mangas
Nine days after Thanksgiving and I’m still giving thanks.
I’m thankful that we finally finished up the leftover turkey soup — it was definitely not my best.
I’m thankful I got out the sleds for Thanksgiving and my grown kids and their cousins and seconds actually lined six-multicolored sleds back-to-back for a photo. Not all of them, but we got 16-partakers, while many of the adult-like family laughed from the living room window or kept warm in conversation around the fire-pit in the backyard.
After the photo, the younger kids did what kids do — they went sledding. All being highly intelligent, they quickly realized that gravity wasn’t as conducive without a snow-covered hill. They worked together to pull or push each other down the hill.
Eleven-year-old Reese carefully pushed 6-year-old J.J. down the hill on the purple saucer. De’Ray, 10, pushed his second cousin, 7-year-old Jackson, on the classic wooden sled with red runners. Eleven-year-old Drew ran full-speed down the hill pulling Walter, 11, on the slick purple sled at running-back speed — Walter, thrilled with his wild ride, accused Drew of reckless sled-pulling.
Eleven-year-old Emery sat on the bright blue, long plastic sled carefully holding onto 19-month-old Miller as his triplet sister Reese pulled the sled gingerly down the slope.
The sledding came after the outside Thanksgiving three-acre scavenger hunt devised by their Uncle Steve. All the kids had to work together to find one clue after another.
I am thankful for a good night sleep on Thanksgiving.
And I’m quite thankful and delighted that I found the lone blueberry I dropped in the kitchen that evening. Somehow it rolled off the table from my hand, past the chubby hands of two snacking 19-month-olds. It had obviously rolled past a room full of family in the kitchen, towards the living room full of more family talking and listening to music, and wedged itself nearly underneath the leather couch.
The little blueberry found its’ demise after being smashed by an unsuspecting foot, which made it easy to clean up the next morning when I found it.
I’m thankful for a houseful and yard full of family — and that the leftovers and rogue blueberry are gone.
Janet Hommel Mangas grew up on the east side of Greenwood. The Center Grove area resident and her husband are the parents of three daughters. Send comments to [email protected].
