Everyone who is not here needs to know that the gravy Justin just made from scratch is orgasmic. (Yes, I did just use the word orgasmic. I'm not in the classroom anymore.)
Oakley and Justin like to cook so they are. (My entire role in the kitchen this Thanksgiving consists of opening cans of broth, setting timers and giving intermittent kisses to the cook.) Brandon and I are myspacing for good music. Oakley comes into the living room with a bite of Hawaiian bread and the butter juices of the turkey. Yummy. Back to the music. Then she comes in with another bite (for me not Brandon, hmmm...) and it's The Gravy. She's raving and claims to have just bowed to my husband. (She's Thai and this is relatively meaningful/less to her.) I eat the bite, say, "Oh my God!" get up, step over the chair... and now I don't remember if I hugged Justin first or ate more bread and gravy first. But that's what happens when a man makes good gravy. :)
Eat up folks!