Lance handed me the bowl and I nervously fumbled with the Thankful Beans in my hand. Normally, I am prepared for my turn at the Thankful Bean Ceremony. Normally, I have planned out my three blessings well in advance and have meticulously thought through their delivery in attempt to make as many family members cry as possible (because there are bets on these things). Normally, the Thankful Bean Ceremony is my jam.
Calling people out if they go past three (we have beans to help us keep track; it still doesn't work on some), shushing the children that clearly don't realize the importance of this ceremony, and playing hot potato with the tissue box as the waterworks begin.
Maybe I was thrown off by the fact that Aunt Heather didn't cry, for the first time in a decade. Also, my mug was full of my fourth cup of coffee of the day. And finally, my pride never allows me to "fit in" and have "normal answers".
Plus the inner struggle between childhood and womanhood has taken a toll on me the past few days.
 |
how unhealthy can we make a waffle? we made a sauce out of peanut butter and...butter. |
 |
glasses make me look older. owl mugs that would be cute for a 12 year-old |
 |
this has nothing to do with anything. |
 |
when are you too old to take a picture with your birthday cupcake? NEVER. |
I really only asked for money for my birthday (adult). However, I took advantage of my single-digit-aged audience at my earlier Thanksgiving to make as many bun jokes as possible about the rolls we were eating to a crowd that shared my level of maturity (which happens to be at a 5th grade boy's level, if you wanted to know) (kid). I watched Home Alone on my birthday and didn't really find the humor in pain and brick-throwing like I used to (adult). This adult-childhood strain was building, and the Thankful Bean Ceremony unfortunately set a perfect stage for the tension to come to a wonderfully awkward head.
My first two thankful beans were dedicated to some pretty cliche yet very true things in my life, and then it came time for the third one. Despite all the blessings, only one was coming to mind for bean number 3. And the coffee spoke before I had a chance to filter:
"And, finally, I've been doing No-Pants November. And...I'm just, really thankful for pants."
 |
I voted pantsless |
 |
went through my newly inherited plates pantsless |
 |
walked to class and ate suckers pantsless |
 |
went through "I Don't Care Days" pantsless |
 |
pantsless at formal |
 |
I know what you're thinking; no these are NOT pants. they are pure glory. |
 |
pantslses in the cold. |
 |
pantsless at piano lessons. |
 |
drove around pantsless |
 |
pantsless in the bathroom. |
 |
pantsless at Bible study. |
 |
not going to lie; this was NOT my outfit for the day. however, after a long yet wonderful day of musical workshops, Mormons, and gingerbread, the first thing I did when I got back to my room was undress. BUT I PROMISE I WAS PANTSLESS ALL DAY. |
 |
pantsless in class (note coffee mug & red mango love) |
So that little montage was in case you didn't believe me. And unfortunately, those aren't all the pictures. And actually, the most unfortunate thing about this whole month is the fact that I take selfies every day to document it. What am I, in high school?! WILL THIS MONTH EVER END?!
Anyways, Thankful Bean Ceremony. I said I was thankful for pants.
I've never heard the Murdoch family so quiet. Everything stopped. Nana was horrified. Aunt Jen was confused. Uncle Linc was on his iPhone. Grampy's hand was cupped around his ear.
Oh, Whit. Why didn't you just say you were thankful for being born in America? You could have pulled another spiritual one out of your butt! You could have said you were thankful for your friends. For ANYTHING BUT PANTS.
And then, it broke out.
"She's only wearing skirts and dresses, guys."
"Is this appropriate?"
"What did she say, dear?" (Grampy is hard of hearing)
"I thought it was called No-Shave November."
"She's been complaining about this all month."
"So she's not wearing pants right now."
"Is that literally what she used her last thankful bean for?"
What I thought was going to be a light-hearted last bean before the emotional people after me got their hands on the bowl (and consequently, the community tissue box) really was just a catalyst for utter confusion. I was the mood killer. The immature, ill-timed mood killer. Leave it to the black sheep of the family (me) to go and be all...black and...sheepy (?).
Nana's response was a fairly good description of the moment in one phrase.
"So, are you wearing underwear right now?"
Here's to pantsless Thanksgivings. I hope yours was more mature, and entailed more pants, than mine did.
But seriously, guys. I'm so thankful that social stipulations have changed and that women can wear pants now. Because Grace used to have really strict rules about pants. Because it's been kind of cold outside. Because I'm sick of sitting like a lady. Because in December I may wear nothing but jeans.
And I'm really thankful for that.
Comments
Post a Comment