Today, on this day of Thanksgiving, I will succumb to the temptation to overindulge of the bounty that will be placed before me. I will not go to work, clean the house, do the laundry or pull weeds out of the flower bed. I will sit my butt in my proper place at the end of the couch in front of the TV and, along with the other male members of my family and the lone female football fan in the family, cheer loudly and quietly hurl invectives (if there are no children in the room) when my Texas Longhorns and Dallas Cowboys deserve it.

I will occasionally wander into the kitchen and dining room where the women folk congregate and nibble on whatever food items remain after the big chow down. I will not limit myself to one piece of pecan pie covered in whipped cream. I will take at least a 30-minute nap on the couch if it is quiet enough, or sneak off to a bedroom. Woe be any child who wakes me.

Late this evening, I will retire for the night, bloated and sluggish, murmuring how I shouldn't have eaten that last piece of pie. I will feel no guilt. And I will be thankful for the many, many blessings I have been given, especially the ones I will enjoy today.