Thanks-taking

As I get older, I get bolder. When I was growing up Thanksgiving was fun. Everyone - in-laws and out-laws - showed up to laugh and play for the holiday. We seldom all ate at the same time because we grazed all morning while the food was being prepared. Stealing bites here and there. It was okay, though - just a chill day for us all to get together and enjoy the company. 

On John's first Thanksgiving with my family, Daddy and Richard, my uncle, had recently gone to Las Vegas together and had gotten some nasty smelling cologne called Jade East (God only knows why). They spend the day chasing each other (and I mean running) around the house trying to spray it on each other. We all laughed until we hurt. John was introduced to the "pull my finger" joke for the first time by my brother, Scott. John pulled! All my cousins, my brother, Michael, the neighbor kids and I all screamed "NO!!" and ran. I think John was a bit shocked. This was a Barton Thanksgiving... CRAZY! But also very chill. There was no appropriate social etiquette. We just had fun.

As timed passed, Thanksgiving became a day I began to  dread year after year. We were expected to dress  nice; act nice; eat nice. Fun was not encouraged. Jokes were definitely not encouraged. And one should never, EVER fart on Thanksgiving. Very different from the irreverent holiday I had grown up with. It was formal. Neat. Polite. Sterile. Most definitely not a time I wanted to give thanks for.

Last year I decided I was ready to start a third Thanksgiving tradition - one for my kids and eventually my grandkids. Back to chill. That was the goal. For the first time in 21 years John, JB, DA and DB and I had our own holiday in our own home. Nothing special, but very special. The beginning of a new era. It was wonderful.

This year we added a new twist. We still munched from the island. We were still just hanging out laughing and enjoying each other, but then we bundled up and headed downtown to the UT football game, getting there early enough to do a little pre-game tailgating. As we started across campus from our parking spot, John said something about wanting a beer, and , voila, the man-child (now 22-years-old) pulled one out of his pocket or boot or something and handed it to his father... more laughter. THIS is our family! OUR tradition.

We parted ways with the kids for awhile and met back up once the game began. Our seats were in the stratosphere and the cold wind blew, but we huddled together and enjoyed it all. After half time DA was able to worm her way out of the student section with some of her friends and join us. Her ex-boyfriend also showed up for our little party. JB made frenemies with the Tech fan in front of us - using his charm to calm the beast he had created just before I thought the guy was going to punch him in the face. Once again Thanksgiving had become a time when anyone was welcome to join us... no more exclusively family holiday. We all put up our horns and sang loudly as Texas scored time after time. It was fun! It was cold! It was crazy! But it was chill... I think the universe is right again. And I'm glad getting older has made me bolder.