One of my all time favorite Thanksgivings was spent with my then 3 year old at a diner in Los Feliz. Just as we were heading over to our friend’s for dinner and we noticed that our little girl had a rash all over her. We knew one of our friends was going to be flying back to Boston with his family the next day – suppose the rash was the beginning of the flu or something? We couldn’t risk it. So my husband packed up our baby and the mashed potatoes and peas and headed to Santa Monica without my daughter and me. I looked at my toddler, all dressed up with no where to go, and wondered what we would do to mark the day? I decided to take her to her favorite spot, Fred 62, and have pancakes. It was surprising how many folks were at the diner that evening. They had lit candles for a special ambience. We ordered silver dollar pancakes, and a turkey sandwich. I was grateful for a few moments alone with my toddler, as my 6 month old had been demanding most of my attention. As usual she was a great company, as chatty as ever. “Happy Thanksgiving.” I said to her, as we chomped into a pancake smothered in maple syrup. “You know what I’m thankful for?” I asked.
“Me,” she smiled.
It’s so easy to get caught up in what Thanksgiving should be, the perfect table, and turkey and the right wine, it’s easy to forget the spirit of the day. I was glad that my daughter reminded me, and that I didn’t have to do dishes.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! And thank you, dear readers, for reading.