Today isn’t about gratitude yet.

That’s tomorrow.

Today is prep day.

The bird’s getting rubbed down like it owes us money.

Seasoned. Rested. Ready for judgment.

The sides?

Corn on deck.

Mashed taters getting whipped into submission.

Stuffing soaking up flavor like it knows its destiny.

Desserts lined up like a sugar-coated SWAT team—waiting to strike.

This is also the day we stretch the belly a little.

Light workouts.

Extra steps.

A few deep breaths between tastes.

Not because we’re disciplined—

because tomorrow is a contact sport.

Fork endurance training starts now.

No speeches today.

No big reflections.

Just prep, laughter, stolen bites, and kitchens that look like controlled crime scenes.

Tomorrow?

Tomorrow we slow it down.

We eat.

We breathe.

We remember what actually matters.

For now—

Pass the spoon.

Check the oven.

Save the gratitude for after the first plate.

Stay dirty.

Stay hungry.

— Saint Dirty Face