Join Date: Apr 2002
Years Riding: 2
How you found us: the smell
Happy Thanks Giving!
Dear Guests at My Thanksgiving Table:
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm telling
in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've
made a few small changes: Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade,
paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how
cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired
Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with
the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead,
I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in
colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.
The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or
crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone
will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the
plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.
Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I
promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration
hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it
We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while
you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every nice comment I have
made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hotline. Please
remember that most of these comments were made by me at 5:00 a.m. upon
discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.
As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of
tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a
of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a
frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.
We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the
of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We've
also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm
sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the
of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a
separate room. Next door.
Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in
front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at
our dinner. For sanity safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a
private ceremony. I stress "private", meaning: Do not, under any
circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small,
unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife.
turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I
do, we will eat.
I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners (and any
males present) that "passing the rolls" is not a football play. Nor is it a
request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread. Oh, and one
reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while
in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its
lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding
the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.
Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice
between 12 different scrumptious homemade desserts, we will be serving the
traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream, small fingerprints,
and broken crust. You will still have a choice; you may take it or leave
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She probably
won't come next year either. I am thankful.
A working Mom.
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