At some point tomorrow night my mother is going to grab her wine glass, tap the side gently with a knife and then conduct her version of the Spanish Inquisition withthe entire Thanksgiving table. Through pointed questioning, each family member will be forced to say what they're thankful for this year. Extracting sentiments is a time-honored tradition of hers, and usually it's an exercise of intricate brutality. You better have an answer, and it better be sweet! But, this year, Brad Underwood has thrown a real wrench into my Thanksgiving preparation.
Will it be acceptable when I hijack the yearly waterfall of compliments to my wife and bestow them on Underwood?