"I turned everyone down, " I reply. "I hope it's OK to just stay home."
My husband grins widely.
"That's great! We can relax! We can hang out in the backyard! We can eat! ...Um, what are we eating, anyway?"
"I love you," I begin, smiling a special smile whose meaning he instantly divines.
"Oh my God. You want me to grill. On THANKSGIVING?!? "
He's looking at me incredulously.
"Do you mind? Thanks, honey!" I'm chipper. "I was thinking we could have steaks. And some wings. And grilled red-skinned potatoes. Mmm!"
He's feigning horror now. "What about tradition? What about turkeys and cranberries and saying what we're each thankful for?"
"I'm thankful you are such a talented griller of steaks and wings and red-skinned potatoes. There. Tradition."
"It's just amazing how you manage to bring everything together," he says solemnly. He holds his hand to his heart and assumes the facial expression of one greatly moved. "I'm so proud." He lets his voice break a little on proud, then pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.
"It's a gift," I agree, mirroring his telenovela-worthy expression for a few seconds before we dissolve into laughter.