Oh, Eggers, may you be appreciated ever more

We are Thanksgiving grocery shoppers. We are the best. We are taking care of it all. We are Thanksgiving grocery shoppers.

Mom wants eight good tomatoes. She holds up her finger and thumb, saying, "Just this size." But she doesn't need to say that because I know. I know everything. I just know. That's how good I am, how good we all are. We just know.

I am getting pears when my sister calls. She's in the store. She's a Thanksgiving grocery shopper. She is the best. She knows, because she is the best, you see— She knows that I am near the cucumbers.

"How many?" I ask.

"Two."

"Is that it?"

"Yep."

And that's all. That's all we need to say. The seven pies that must be made, the twenty pounds of potatoes to be mashed, the crowded grocery store— None of it will get to us. We know how to deal with it. We use two carts and cell phones and we enjoy it and we take care of it all. We are the best. We are Thanksgiving grocery shoppers.