Bull. They are crap. The best way to make Kelly and me feel warm and fuzzy is to feed us. We might not be skinny Mads' parents. While our landlord's decoration of the door warmed our hearts, food has made us so much more energetic - no lie, a Jared's commercial just came on during my Pandora session. Kelly's cousin was the first to offer us the hook up by ordering sushi on our first night home from the hospital. There is a coincidence here, Chris and his wife Sara, Kelly's cousins and now mine, ordered from Ichiban, meaning number one in Japanese. Score. I might have started eating before we even left the kitchen. Sorry.
Yesterday, Barie, Mads' maternal grandmother, rolled in from the Northern Neck to assist in our joy and pain. She brought some chicken with her. We matched that with some roasted asparagus a la Mary Ann and a side of caesar salad to match Kelly's scar. Barie kicked out a parmesan chicken with lemon caper sauce. Needless to say, no one over the age of five days is losing weight in this house.
She also brought the fixings for a real Thanksgiving dinner since we ate out on the actual day. Kelly is excited. I am stoked. The house smells like last week should have. I cannot tell you how much I love food.
Dinner was amazing. So good, in fact, that seconds were par for the course. Thirds were not a stretch.
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