Turkeys, pigs(kin)

"It's kinda fun when you don't care who wins," I say to the room, "when you can just watch the football." My sister-in-law's husband telegraphs his agreement as Tennessee and Kentucky continue to play through yet another overtime. We're in the minority, here, but, that's our role always: agreeable out-laws in facing chairs, avoiding whatever conversation is going on in the kitchen and dining room. We just happen to be spending this do-over Thanksgiving watching a pretty great game.

But, we're not outcasts and we weren't alone: my father-in-law and a nephew were hanging on every play, too, but they're Tennessee fans, former and current residents, so for them it was a whole other thing. The Vols lose and they would have been disappointed and frustrated, at least until the MU-KU game came on at seven. Now I wouldn't have minded if the Wildcats had managed, but, eh, no sweat: fun while it lasted. It was just a game.

This afternoon before I left for the bonus round of turkey, my mom and I were recapping our Thursday meal when she shared that my brother's new girlfriend had volunteered to do the dishes. "She said she'd rather be in the kitchen," my mother reported, "because she didn't care anything about the game."

"I can't believe there are people who don't enjoy football!" said my mother, with real exclamation in her voice. I had to laugh. Not to stereotype, but the new girl in question does wear heels with her jeans: her disinterest in the NFL wasn't exactly a shock, but my mom was indeed sincere.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am who I am, or at least why you will find me where you will find me during any of these cold weather family gatherings. Thanks mom, for that.