Every Thanksgiving, I look forward to turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, football, giant balloons floating over Manhattan and, of course, being able to write a “What I am Thankful For” column. Cheap, overdone and gimmicky? Yes it is! But since my precious child, of whom I am most thankful for this year, brought home the daycare stomach virus as a treat to the whole family, and I am literally writing this between dry heaves, I am thankful to have such a device to lean on before I go and lay on the bathroom floor again, which brings me to the first thing I am thankful for…

My bathroom floor. I am thankful it’s tile because it has provided a cool, dry surface on which to place my cheek after hurling up all of my bile.

The thoughts you have during a stomach virus are strange — like thinking how euthanasia doesn’t sound like such a terrible idea and considering trying to eat something soft so the heaves won’t be so dry. Wouldn’t it be better to throw up something like chicken and dumplings rather than those foamy, acidic gastric juices?

I think so, but then again, what if that just starts the process all over again? Yes, the dumpling vomits would be way more comfortable, but would they just be prolonging the inevitable? Must I literally get to the bottom of my stomach before this hell will end? Yes you must, Ashley. Yes you must.

Other things I am thankful for… (In no particular order – really the order of someone whose mind isn’t working quite right due to ralphing for the last five hours)

Mobile.

A. Trees. There is nothing like living driving under the canopy of oak trees on Government Street from about Broad Street to the cannon. You forget just how beautiful it is if you drive that route a hundred times a day like I do, but remind yourself to see it for the first time again. Trust me, you’ll be thankful you live here rather than in the midst of some concrete jungle.

B. Socializin’ Dahlin’. Yes, your Atlanta friends will still try to maintain their social calendars are infinitely fuller and cooler than yours, but the Mobile social calendar is comfortably predictable and full of booze, minimal pretension (save a few Mardi Gras parties) and fun.

And every year it will go something like this: GMAC Bowl, Senior Bowl, Mardi Gras, Chili Cook-off, St. Patrick’s Day, Azalea Trail, Mullet Toss, spring street parties, many trips to the beach and the Bay from Memorial Day to Labor Day, the rodeo, the Nappies, jubilees, fall street parties, BayFest, pumpkin patches, Shrimpfest, Greekfest, football parties, Christmas Jubilee, Magic Christmas in Lights, and now the New Year’s Eve Moonpie festivities.

And you’ll run into a hundred people you know at each of these events from your elementary school, swim team, cotillion classes, high school or work. It’s like living in a really big small town, and for that, I am truly thankful.

Propel. This Gatorade fitness water seems to be making me feel better. Thanks Propel.

KC-45 tanker. Sure, we uncorked the champagne bottles and held a parade a little prematurely last time, but I still love that we have the possibility of getting the tanker. Yes, the process is sickeningly political and ridiculously long, but I still love to overhear business owners, from real estate agents to restaurateurs, saying, “And if we get the tanker contract…” It will be such a huge blow if we don’t get it, but I am thankful the possibility still exists for now.

Clean catheters. I am thankful I don’t have to use catheters at all, but it seems if I ever do these sad folks on this TV commercial say I will now be able to get 200 brand new catheters a month instead of having to re-use just four. Why were these people having to re-use these things anyway and why are they telling us about this? Talk about hurling. I just can’t help but think about the process of cleaning said used catheters. Do you just pull them out and throw them in the dishwasher next to the cheese grater? Well not anymore, Ashley. Not anymore.

Ok. I am going to go get on my couch now, which I am terribly thankful for at the moment and watch some documentaries or true crime shows narrated by Bill Curtis, whose monotone narration I am very thankful for. Sure he’s talking about someone being bludgeoned to death, but for some reason, that man’s voice is more effective than Phenergan. Does that make any sense to anyone? For those of you who say yes, I am thankful for you too.

Have a Happy (Vomit Free) Thanksgiving!