It’s around midnight and Zane is finally asleep next to me. As I listen to his heavy breathing I wonder what he’s dreaming about. Just before he dosed off he informed me that he couldn’t sleep because he had, “too many things to think about.”
“Will we get a turkey?”
“I think we’re going to get a couple.”
The weather forecast is calling for a thirty degree drop in temperature and possible snow showers. We may not even see a bird but I’m content nonetheless. Can a man ever feel too grateful?
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