A few updates on the youngsters as Thanksgiving approaches. Caleb's response on a recent trip to the National Gallery of Art: "No, no, no. No more pictures" (this while pulling to go back outside). I agree. This weekend while the wife, a relative, and Eli looked at art, Caleb and I got ice cream, watched the ice skaters (Caleb's new word: Zamboni), rode the carousel, and took a nap on a park bench. I may be a philistine, but that is way better than any art I've ever seen.

I'm going to give Eli a nickname: Catfish. Set him down on the floor, and he will commence to picking up anything in sight and putting it into his mouth. Occasionally he'll crawl over to his mother's favorite rug and yack up a hairball or a dried pea or something. He's very cheerful about all of it. He's a total bottom feeder. I'm worried he will become a lawyer.

The wife says I use too much slang around the youngsters. I'm thinking she may be right. While Caleb and I were looking at Matchbox cars in Target the other night, he pointed to one and said, "Whoa, check it out, my friend." This comes after we've finally broken him of the habit of expressing appreciation by saying "Sweet."

One of Caleb's favorite things is to sit on the couch with me and watch football while eating chocolate creme Oreo's. The other night we got to bedtime before getting a chance to do that, which made him a little unhappy. After I tucked him in, I sat down and had a cookie. A few minutes later, the ruckus from the boys' bedroom (which amounted to the boys yapping and giggling at each other from their respective beds) gave me cause to go up and restore order. As I re-tucked Caleb, he lifted his head towards my face, sniffed, and said, "Did you have a cookie?" Sniff, sniff. "You had a cookie, didn't you?" Sniff, sniff. "Can I smell?" Sniff, sniff. "Cookie."

So, enough already. Go get ready for Thanksgiving. If you prefer to call it "the holidays," then, for lack of a more delicate way to put this, and in keeping with the spirit of Thanksgiving, you can bite me. For those of us who do call it Thanksgiving, let's remember to give thanks tomorrow. Give thanks that we don't live in the places where slavery still exists, or where people and their children are considered the property of the state. Be thankful that we live in one of the best countries in human history, despite what idiots like Michael Moore and Susan Sarandon have to say about it.

Be thankful you have food to eat, and that people love you. All of these, by the way, are part of what theologians call "common grace." As you sit down to a nice meal tomorrow, however, remember just for one day that for many people in the world, they aren't so common.