On Thanksgiving Day, I will wake up early, scramble to clean my house, fumble over a new recipe I've never made before, and greet my parents at 11:30 a.m. (or before, as they do love to surprise). Dinner will land on the table whether it's a hit or miss, the Lions will play whether it's a win or lose, and my Dad will fall asleep in the recliner, no whether about it.
What I love about Thanksgiving is that there are few things that are given, but one thing is for sure: I have the day off. And while the day could be a collision of yet unknown disasters, I still have the damn day off. I might change into my pajamas in the middle of the afternoon. I might eat leftovers six hours later while standing in the open doorway of the fridge. I might not wash the dishes until Friday.
It is for these luxuries that I mourn for those chain store workers whose employers have decided to open on Thanksgiving evening. This is absurd. And unkind. And fucking greedy, if you're wondering how I feel.
I won't be taking any part in this, and not just because I won't be able to get off the couch...
But I may leisurely make my way to some local, small businesses sometime over the weekend. During the hours that they have decided to be open. And I won't be looking for a deal; I'll be looking to support the people who understand the value of a day of rest. For everyone.
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