The Night before Thanksgiving

“Everett, where’s my phone?”

“Dunno.  Want me to call it?”

Tyler Dog gave us that “they’re acting weird again” look as Everett and I sat motionless at the kitchen table with our heads cocked, waiting to hear a ringtone.

We’d gotten a call from friends saying they were on their way over to visit.  Much to the dog’s amusement we instituted a rush of “cleaning up”.  A 400 sq. foot RV doesn’t provide much visiting room at the best of times, and late on a rainy afternoon before Thanksgiving is NOT the best of times.  We gathered dog toys off the floor and stashed them under the end tables.  We pulled the “dog hair prevention blanket” off the couch and stashed it in its traveling cupboard.  We put away all the dry dishes from the rack and put the sink cover over all the dirty ones in the sink.  We stuffed countertop clutter into cabinets, piled the day-to-day stuff from the kitchen table/computer desk into a basket and hucked it in a closet.  We ran a quick check around the livingroom/diningroom/kitchen/entryway (it’s an RV, remember?) and tossed all the assorted trash that had accumulated into the garbage bin in its own little closet under the sink counter.  I picked up my purse to stow it in the bedroom closet . . . and realized my cell phone was NOT in its little pocket.  I had just taken our friends’ call on that phone, it MUST be nearby.  So, yes, I did want Everett to call it.  And yes, we did hear the ringtone . . . quietly and as if from far away.  And yes, after several minutes of triangulation and secondary calls to keep it ringing, we did find the phone.  Deep in the garbage bin, under the morning’s coffee grounds, thankful to have been rescued.

Among so many other blessings, we are thankful to have friends who want to visit us, for family who invited us for Thanksgiving dinner at THEIR house, and for an RV big enough to live in, but small enough to not lose anything I’ve misplaced for long.

How we'd like friends to think we live

How we’d like friends to think we live

How it usually IS - I can't even fix red eye on the dog!

How it usually IS – I can’t even fix red eye on the dog!


8 thoughts on “The Night before Thanksgiving

Comments are closed.