I'm thankful for a husband who talks me down off the ledge. Seriously. When a flurry of Thanksgiving preparations sent me spiraling down in a nitpicky torrent of my own imperfections--I don't home-make enough meals, I don't do enough of the cooking, I don't make us eat so healthy we subsist on chia seeds and organic grapes alone--he sat there and listened, getting splashed as I vigorously washed dishes. Then he reminded me that I was cooking right now, that he likes doing the cooking, and that half of what we eat is leafy and green--and back in Cali where things were fresher, it was even more than that.
Which all amounted to a very gentle and loving, "Stop whining and be thankful for what you have."
Word count: 131.