This year we’re going naked for Thanksgiving.

I think my two-year old has the right idea. Lately he has taken to walking around with just his Nemo sandals on. That’s all he wants to wear. I hardly have the energy to make him wear a little shirt and tie and dress slacks.

Besides, we live in California and it’s been 80 degrees for the past three days. We don’t know whether to put out our inflatable snowman or the inflatable swimming pool.

You should see our turkey this year. It’s a real hybrid. There are nine wings and necks (for the cats) and five drumsticks (for the kids).

It’s a good thing we aren’t expecting anyone to join us in the celebration this year either. It takes guts to sit buck-naked at the table and keep your eyes on the melting Jell-O salad