Thanksgiving Overstimulation

Thanksgiving was genuinely great, but it had that very specific “every sense is clocked in and working overtime” energy the second the house filled up. Me and Mocha got there early, which only meant we were front-row witnesses when the day really kicked off. Once everyone arrived, everything hit at once.

The parade was loud on the TV. The kitchen was clanking and sizzling. Adults were talking over each other. Kids were doing five different things in five different corners- one yelling happily, one sprinting, one dancing, one attempting modern art with mashed potatoes. The house was hot, busy, and buzzing from the floorboards up. Classic child chaos.

I felt that familiar internal “okay, all my senses are now fighting each other” warmth creeping in. Mocha caught it instantly. He always does. He didn’t ask anything, didn’t point it out - he just looked at me in that quiet, knowing way, like, “Yep. Let’s go.”

Thanksgiving is the perfect place for a Penjamin walk. No debate. No explanation. It just is…

So we slipped out together. No announcement. No excuses. We just ghosted through the front door like two people who have done this routine before, because we have. Cold November air hit me like a system reboot. My whole body cooled off. My hearing finally separated into individual sounds instead of one giant vibrating cloud. I could breathe again. And Mocha was right there next to me, ready to keep me company while I took my “Penjamin walk”, because he never makes go by myself.

We walked down the driveway, decompressing. I took a couple hits, let the air clear my head and the buzz of the house fall off my shoulders. And once I stopped overheating? We did what any two grown adults hiding behind a car on a holiday would do… we made out a little. Not a whole scene. Just enough to laugh about later. It was stupid and sweet and exactly the right amount of chaotic romance for the moment.

Five minutes outside was all it took. Quick reset. Quick recharge. A little Penjamin, a little fresh air, a little husband. We walked back inside like nothing happened, fully functional again and ready for round two of kid chaos, temperature spikes, random yelling, and the full Thanksgiving circus.

Now time for leftovers…