O Lord, when I tried to peel a banana, it slipped from my hand. The whole bunch was shiny and slick! What idiot would grease a bowl of fruit? Then it hit me. I’d aimed PAM at a pan … with the nozzle pointed elsewhere.
Anyone here like Christmas better than Thanksgiving?
With God’s incredible gift of His Son, family celebrations, music, decorations and food, it doesn’t get any better than that.
But families also express gratitude for each other at Thanksgiving, for freedom, health and — last, but not least — hope through Christ. Along with the food, it doesn’t get any better than that.
I’m forced to enjoy a draw, nixing healthy eating until a January Judgment Day.
I also want to express gratitude for little blessings — even weird ones — that seldom receive a nod or notice:
Fuzzy bathroom rugs. These don’t rank up there with world peace or an Indianapolis Colts victory, but on chilly mornings, they mean everything to wet, freezing toes.
Combines blocking the road. Already late, I forget these are a blessing. Other drivers’ gestures indicate they forget, too. But these bulky, balky monsters and hardworking farmers ensure food on our tables.
Bananas. With this nutritious, easy-open, eco-friendly fruit — no refrigeration necessary — our children thrived. True, bananas’ squishability, the babies’ sticky reaches and my long hair proved problematic. Still, they blessed lunch boxes and trips. When emergencies interrupted my skinny physician husband’s meals, I sent bananas with him to eat on the way.
Today, neither of us worry about weight loss. Still, we’re glad bananas will be around for our future, with or without teeth.
The color purple. What would we do without purple violets and irises, plums and eggplants? Without royal velvets and wild purple storm clouds — and essentials like Grape Slushies and Super Bubble Gum?
My 2010 car. New models map routes, parallel park and warm butts. Some drivers, though, given a Starship Enterprise dashboard, threaten the universe. Even driving my old Ford, I’ve occasionally popped the hood when I meant to open the trunk. If I tried to warm my posterior while driving 70 miles per hour, I’d hit the parallel parking mechanism.
I’m thankful for my simple, old car. You should be, too.
Ranch dressing, available only since the 1980s. How did we as a civilization survive without it?
Free parking lots. Metropolitan drivers spend hundreds to park in scary garages. I revel in nearly unlimited free parking, saving my neck, my bucks and my sanity.
Bankers without firearms. I’ve entered Honduran banks where guards accessorized with ammunition belts and machine guns. I’m thankful my bankers are armed only with smiles.
Gardeners who plant prairie grass. They validate those of us who grow it unintentionally.
Finally, I’m thankful I never played the turkey in a school production.
Still debating whether you like Thanksgiving or Christmas most? It’s a draw, right?
A draw for the turkey, too.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Can you list weird things for which you’re thankful?