Picture Perfect

As Luke and I drove down the unusually quiet street on Thanksgiving morning to buy our plump Thanksgiving day paper, I began to reminisce of memories from Thanksgivings past. They were consistent to say the least, but just like cranberry sauce and gravy run into all the fixings on the Thanksgiving plate so do my Thanksgiving memories. Some can remember specific Thanksgivings, usually because of something out of the ordinary. While, I can't remember specific Thanksgivings, I remember the consistency of the holiday. Instead of vivid memories, I have snap shots.

I have snap shots of eating too many Hawaiian rolls, being teased by my uncle by the lack of food on my plate (I was a picky eater, aside from Hawaiian rolls), and hopelessly trying to find a good football game in my grandparents basement which barely got TV reception or eat. For the record the Lions have always been a losing team and I still don't have an affinity for the Cowboys.

We climbed back in the car with our monstrous paper and a hunk of free bread from the bakery for Luke, I decided that I wouldn't trade my snap shots of Thanksgiving for anything and began to wonder how I could give my kids their own snap shots. Maybe the routine of going to the grocery to buy a paper in order to spend time with Luke. Maybe getting an early morning Latte with Ava Marie when she is old enough to appreciate the love behind buying overpriced coffee. Or maybe some day they will laugh over the pictures of them sitting in Turkey pans. I don't know what their memories will be, but I hope that some day they will have a fabulous collection of snap shots like me.