I’m getting a break from work and a couple of days off, so I’m hitting the road with close family, and spending Thanksgiving on the move. Well, everybody needs a tradition or two.

It’s not a bad way to spend the holidays. Admittedly, without getting on a plane, we’re in the heart of “cities that shut down” territory, but there’s always a Waffle House or a Denny’s (or, you know, a 24 hour CVS that will sell “dinner” in a pinch.)

It’s a real break, not an epic family gathering.

No questions about why I’m still single, or arguing over politics because someone thought they could “have a civil discussion” even after a lifetime of brutal, no-holds barred brawls. No crib sheets to try and remember what’s “common knowledge” and what’s “inside information.”

And–hallelujah–no trying to remember what secret is secret from whom.

Nope.

The only people here are people who have active, on-going relationships with each other; no one who feels obligated to be here because… Thanksgiving. No once-a-year awkwardness. It’s nice.

I might try taking a boyfriend to the epic family version again, sometime…. if I ever find someone I’d like to watch slip into catatonia, that is. He’d try to keep up, for a while, and then start to lose his grasp on human language. After that, I can decorate him for Christmas.