Every year I
have this fantasy of what my Thanksgiving will be like. I see a house full of
family and friends. Everyone is dressed festive but comfortable, each
reflecting their individual sense of style. I see my friends and family
talking, laughing and having a good time. Some are standing around in groups
with small plates of appetizers and others are standing next to the appetizer
table snacking. We all have a glass of freshly made holiday punch. Kids are
bundled up and playing outside. Jumping in leaf piles, running around playing
tag or jumping on the trampoline.
The
appetizer table is covered with wonderful, bite sized creations that never fill
anyone up no matter how much they eat. There's a carefully laid out cheese and
cracker tray, a veggie tray, an assortment of delightful fresh baked savory and
sweet tarts and of course, a homemade cheese ball. The appetizers and the punch
miraculously, never run low. My holiday decorations are perfectly arranged as
if ready for a magazine shoot. The house is filled with wonderful aromas of
delicious cooking food and soft music plays in the background. Over the music,
I hear the hum of conversations around me. I flutter around the room talking to
everyone. I catch up on the current events happening with friends and family. I am graciously accepting
compliments on how beautiful my house looks and enjoying the spotlight, but
being modest about my accomplishments.
Suddenly,
it's time to sit down and eat. The table is gorgeously set with beautiful
dishes and piled high with perfectly cooked food. The stuffing is a gorgeous
golden brown. The green beans have a perfectly placed pat of melting butter on
top. The mashed potatoes are beautifully whipped. The gravy is hot and thick
with no lumps. Biscuits look like they will just melt in your mouth and
homemade honey butter waits to be slathered on a piping hot biscuit. And the
turkey. The turkey is the picture of perfection. Crisp golden-brown skin
covering moist turkey meat. Then there is the dessert table, filled with all
kinds of home baked goodies. All my guests gush over how scrumptious the food
appears, how delicious the dessert table looks and how beautiful the table
settings are.
We all
find our seats that are marked with adorable place markers I made. The children
have come inside, washed their hands and are quietly waiting for their food to
be put on their plates. A simple but heartfelt Thanks is said and now we get
down to eating. Bowls of food are passed around and everyone fills their
plates. The children sit, eat what's put on their plates and politely join in
the conversation with the adults. The food never runs out and everyone gets
their fill. Thanksgiving dinner goes off without a hitch and
everyone has a great, relaxing time.
Yea, I
know. I've been watching too many Hallmark movies. So what would my
Thanksgiving really be like? About the only thing that my fantasy and real life
Thanksgiving have in common is a house full of people. Other than that, well,
I'll let you decide.
Everyone
arrives at the same time and it's a bottle neck to get in the door. Once inside
the kids are running around the house yelling and chasing each other. The dog
decides to chase the cat and knocks over the table with my
"meticulously" arranged appetizers. These
"meticulously" arranged appetizers consists of slices of cheese and
crackers thrown on a paper plate, chips in a bowl with the dip still in the
store container and carrot nubs with a bottle of ranch dressing. There's not a
tart or cheese ball to be seen. The dog suddenly stops chasing the cat to clean
up the mess by gobbling up what spilled. The kids who are now chasing the dog
all try to stop suddenly and land in a pile, resulting in the child on the
bottom receiving the brunt of everyone's weight and is now in major crying
mode. Adults wade into the fray to pull children off the pile and end up with
bruised legs as kids trying to untangle themselves are kicking anything in
reach. Once that riotous event has been smoothed out, the kids and dog are sent
outside to run.
During
this chaotic time, I notice that there seems to be more friends and family than
I planned for. But no, that can't be. If anyone decided to bring a guest they
would let me know. Right? Wouldn't they? I begin to casually do a head count
and come up with four over. Huh. So I do another head count. Yep. Four more
than planned. Hmmm . . . Now I have to figure out what four. Are they adults or
children? This makes a difference since normally children eat less than adults
and I have just enough food. Four additional children would explain why there
was so much excitement when everyone arrived. However, my hopes are soon dashed
as I realize that my son's partner, that wasn't going to come, is now here.
Then I spy my daughter and see that she has her niece and the little boy that
lives next door in tow. One adult. Two kids. Ok. I'm still in good shape. Until
I see the missing fourth person. It's my son-in-law's brother. I know I'm in
trouble now because he can pack food away. But I love that more of my family
are here, the more the merrier!
As the
adults finish cleaning up the mess of the appetizers, I dash to the kitchen to
check on the cooking food. The potatoes are boiling
and ready to be mashed, the green beans are cooking and the store-bought
biscuits are ready to go in the oven. I open the oven to make sure my turkey is
browning nicely only to find the oven isn't hot. I forgot to turn it on!! What
do I do now?! I run into the living room with a look of panic on my face and
say "I forgot to turn on the oven! I have a raw turkey!" I receive
stunned looks from all who hear my announcement. My daughter calmly picks up
her purse, grabs her keys and heads out the door. Everyone left in the room is
staring at each other with looks of horror and puzzlement. Horror because there
won't be any turkey on Thanksgiving and puzzlement because we're wondering
where my daughter is going. Then everyone begins to talk at once and the
children are crying.
I make my
escape back to the kitchen to begin digging in the refrigerator for something
to replace the turkey. I hear the front door slam and in my haste
to see what's going on, I hit my head on the refrigerator. I hurry into the living
room rubbing my head and see my daughter is holding a plastic bag from the
local grocery store. We all gather around her wanting to know what is in the
bag and find . . . ground turkey. All right then. Sore head forgotten, I grab
the bag, race back into the kitchen, quickly make up turkey meatballs and throw
them in the oven. Yes, I make sure the oven is on. I drain and mash the
potatoes which turn out very lumpy. Throw butter in the green beans and shove
the biscuits in the oven. Jar turkey gravy is spooned into a bowl and heats in
the microwave.
When the
food is done I yell for everyone to grab a plate and eat. I almost get trampled
as everyone stampedes into the kitchen to get food. Children fuss about what
they won't eat. Parents tell them to eat what's put on their plate. The noise
level rises. Everyone finds a spot to sit, eat and visit. The dog steals food
when she can, causing the big kids to laugh and the little ones to cry. Adults
hurry up and eat, grab the kids, clean them off and rush out the door after
hasty goodbyes. When silence descends and the coast appears clear, I gingerly
step out of the kitchen. Thanksgiving dinner by most standards would be
considered a disaster as this was not a relaxing event but all in all, everyone
had a good time because we are spending time with those we love. After all, who
needs a boring, quiet, movie scene Thanksgiving dinner. Good thing I don't. But maybe, just once . . . .
Thanks for visiting with
me at
Down Home at Dee's
Down Home at Dee's
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