Thanksgiving is hands-down the best holiday for food lovers like myself. As soon as Halloween is over and I come out of my sugar coma to find myself surrounded by candy wrappers and chocolate in my bed, it’s November, and that means Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving because that means that my family is all back together and all the kids are home from school and I get to sleep for 5 days without having to wake up for anything. And the only thing I love more than Thanksgiving is mashed potatoes. Maybe it’s some deep rooted Irish complex I have, but all I know is I get a lil hot and bothered when I start thinking about mashed potatoes. I will take you through a day in the life of a girl who just doesn’t know how to get over her love of mashed potatoes.

*Special shoutout to my mom who makes the meanest mashed potatoes on the East Coast.*

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Waking up on Thanksgiving morning, thinking about all the food (potatoes) you’re going to eat.

Getting ready for dinner and remembering you need to wear stretchy pants to make room for those mashed potatoes.

When you see your mom starting to make the potatoes, and you start to get a little sweaty.

Seeing the pot of mashed potatoes, all creamy, buttery, and steamy, glistening in the mid-afternoon sunlight.

Feeling the pot of mashed potatoes looking at you, seducing you, beckoning you to come eat it.

Having to sit through small talk and pretend you’re paying attention when really all you can think about is mashed potatoes.

Finally sitting down at the table and filling half of your plate with mashed potatoes, but then remembering that everyone else needs to eat some too.

Then not giving a f**k and taking as much as you want because no one understands how much mashed potatoes means to you.

Having barely enough room on your plate for turkey, stuffing, corn, etc. because your plate looks like a mashed potato mountain with a gravy lake on top.

Taking that first bite, knowing all of your waiting and dreaming has come to an end.

Approximately 10 seconds later, when you black back in and you realize your whole plate is clean and are ready for a second round.

*3 plates later*

After everyone at the table finished their first plates and you've pretty much housed three whole plates of potatoes and the whole bowl.

Taking a breather and realizing you may have made a mistake, because your stretchy pants are feeling really tight.

Lying down after dinner, feeling a little sick, but very much satisfied with your mashed potato baby.