In some places, the night before Halloween is called Mischief Night. On Mischief Night, kids go out and solemnly swear to be up to no good.
It's generally mild-mannered nuisance mischief: wrapping toilet paper around neighbors' bushes, throwing corn at front doors and running away, maybe an egg or two tossed at a mailbox. (Unless you live in Camden. Evidently, Mischief Night there involves arson.)
Damn kids. Whaddaya gonna do?
And I was wondering the same thing with this NaBloPoMo word.
The hell? Whaddame gonna do?
So I thought and I thought and I thought....
And I thought up Blankety Night!
Blankety Night is the night before Thanksgiving. And the tradition of Blankety night is that while all your pies are baking and while the turkey is defrosting in the sink (because you know you forgot to take it out of the freezer in time to allow it to thaw in the fridge)...
while you are waiting in anticipation for the great day of being thankful and eating great gob-fulls of food for which you are also thankful, Blankety Night is the time for us to come together and bitch about all the blankety-blank stuff in our lives for which we are not, really, all that thankful. And then find a way to be thankful for it. Even if it's a blankety blanking bitch.
Blankety Night is not a time to wallow in self-pity or to sharpen talons in preparation for a Battle Royale with who/whatever is being a blankety blank in our lives.
Blankety Night is a time for trying to make the best of our bad situations, even the measly annoyances.
And lying if you have to. Fake it till you make it.
So, yeah. We're all thankful for our family, friends, general well being and clean running water.
But I'm blankety thankful for
My blankety dish washing machine that broke. I couldn't afford to pay someone to fix it, so I had to go out and buy my own blankety set of Torx screwdrivers. Which I then had instantly handy when the blankety clothes washing machine broke.
The blankety weird guy at the Civil War Museum who was acting all weird and then parked his car near my car in the parking lot and waited there. I was able to show my kids that it's okay to not be a cowboy and be stupidly brave when dealing with weirdos in parking lots. We all went back in the building and alerted a security guard who then waited with us walked us to the car.
My blankety doctor who drew blood and found I had borderline high iron levels. I'm supposed to go donate blood now more often. Which I should have been doing anyway.
The blankety cat who fought with a blankety fox. I was able to get a free rabies booster.
The blankety rain this summer and fall. I needed to be reminded to start saving for new gutters.
The blankety kid who was bullying another kid in the hallway at Parent Teacher Night. I told her to knock it the heck off, and when my kids died of embarrassment, I had the opportunity to give them a lecture about how the whole blankety world wouldn't be going Hades in a blankety hand basket if more people would step between bullies and their victims and tell the bullies to knock it the blankety heck off. Or knock it the blankety hell off. Whichever works. (And then, of course, find compassionate means to help the bully understand why it is she is being such a jerk and how to change her life around so she can feel better about herself, etc., etc., yadda, yadda, yadda.)
Blankety mosquitoes. I'm still working on this one.
So, that's how you do it! Blankety Night!
Have fun re-thinking your hardships and/or lying to yourself.
It tastes as good on your lips as cranberry sauce and gravy!