It’s Thanksgiving here in Canada, and we’re all over the place, feasting as if we’ve never feasted before, and wearing pants with elastic waistbands.

I met friends for dim sum in the morning, and then headed home to goad Nick into getting up and dressed and signing a card.

For some reason, the cat bathes Nick rather frequently. She either thinks he’s her kitten, or is absolutely disgusted by him and feels compelled to clean him every chance she gets.

At my parents’, we were greeted with the smell of turkey and a table full of Lego, which would ultimately become somethingorother with Darth Vader or something. Apparently it’s a boy thing.

Dad’s getting pretty good about not stabbing me when I reach in to tear pieces of meat while he’s carving the thing. He sets the crackly skin at the edge so I can reach it without putting my hand at the pointy end of the knife.

I think he’s mimicking behaviour he sees from his aunt and uncle. That’s a soft cider, by the way.

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope yours is full of cats and turkeys and Lego, and that you get to bed at a reasonable hour, before indigestion sets in. If you’re in America and aren’t going to be having one of these for another six weeks, then Happy Thanksgiving in advance!