I did it.
For years and years now, we've gathered together, usually in my home, for Thanksgiving dinner. I love to cook, and I usually start on Wednesday. Brian sleeps late, and wakes around 11 or 12. I feed him bacon when he wakes up. Then I crack the whip! Vacuum the house! Set up the folding tables! Light the candles! Stop smoking! (Hey. I can't help it. It's what Mom`s do.)
Teri brings big sides, like 100 lbs of mashed potatoes, and I force her to cook the gravy. Baby, I can roll some sushi, but gravy from scratch? Fuhgeddabout it. She brings that delicious broccoli cheese rice blop. We eat and eat, then we snap at one another to shut up while we watch Survivor. Mom nods off in the chair, while we whisper and point and laugh.
We are breaking with tradition this year.
It has been, for some reason, an enormous source of stress for me. Brian's in Iraq. Teri's second session of chemo will be on Monday. Mom? I cringe to say it, but Mom will just be merrily surprised to find out that today is Thanksgiving, and that she's coming for lunch with her kids.
Honestly? I'm wiped out. My dilemma has been: Do I spend $200 on groceries and cook for two days, alone, this time? (Clint is working, FYI.) I don't want Teri to cook. In fact, I forbid it! She started yammering about bringing this or that, and I told her to shut up, cuz I'm the boss of her. It's likely she may not feel like coming over at all.
I lamented to my girlfriends Friday night: What to do? Skipping Thanksgiving? God, that seems even more pathetic. No Thanksgiving on top of this?!!
How could I?
"Why don't you just buy one of those pre-maid dinners from a grocery deli?" Di asked? Melissa chimed in: Yes! Meijer does it! Schnucks!
Where have I been? I can CARRY OUT Thanksgiving dinner?
Hecks yeah, I can, and baby, my prayers have been answered.
THIS was in today's Sunday flyer.
Whoo Hoo! I'll fix a few pies, a salad or two, and at 3:00 Thursday afternoon, I'll race out and pick up dinner. I'll pop the turkey in the oven for 1 hour, and by 5:00, we'll sit down to a feast.
A completely handmade, homemade, feast, with everyone we love gathered around the table?
But it's a fair substitute: We'll still gather 'round a table. We can afford this. Teri can take a nap, if she wants. And when we hold hands and tell what we're thankful for this year...
I hope it's that we got a phone call from Brian.
And that's he's doing just fine.
Next year, though.
Hold on to ya hats. You're all coming over.
You are in charge of gravy.