June 2, 2026

My first time hosting Thanksgiving was supposed to be a big “we finally made it” moment….

“I want everyone to see what we built.”

Then we bought our first house.

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It’s not huge, but it’s ours. Old hardwood floors, a tiny yard, a kitchen that needed work but had good light. I cried the first night we slept there, happy tears this time.

Jason held me on the floor between boxes and said, “Next Thanksgiving, we host.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “That’s a lot.”

“I am,” he said. “I want everyone to see what we built.”

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So we invited everyone for our first official Thanksgiving.

“Please don’t suck,” I told the turkey. “I need this win.”

I made lists. I watched videos. I planned the turkey down to the minute.

Thanksgiving morning, I was up at six. I started with pies — pumpkin and apple. I made the crust from scratch because I wanted to prove something, maybe to Diane, maybe to myself.

Then I tackled the turkey. I rinsed it, patted it dry, mixed softened butter with garlic and herbs. I rubbed the butter under the skin, seasoned it, stuffed it with onion and lemon.

“Please don’t suck,” I told the turkey. “I need this win.”

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