Thanksgiving Memory

About ten years ago, Hubs was on stand-by over the Thanksgiving holiday, which meant he had to be within 30 minutes of work. My parents were hosting Thanksgiving, about 35 minutes away on really, really good day. However, any accident, any delay--especially on the Bay Bridge--and we would be stuck in traffic.

"I'd better stay home," Hubs said. "You go with the kids."

I didn't feel right leaving him home alone on Thanksgiving. And the idea of packing up the kids and driving over and back just didn't appeal to me.

"We'll have our own Thanksgiving," I told him. (And, yes, my parents understood.)

I looked at my brood, who were 12, 9, 5, and 2 at the time, and asked them, "Okay, what do we have to have that makes it Thanksgiving?"

Turkey was a given.

"Mashed potatoes and gravy," said Hubs.

"Pumpkin pie with Cool Whip(tm)," said DS#1, "and I want to make it."

"Can we have cranberries?" asked DD#1.

"And stuffing," said DS#1. "StoveTop(tm) stuffing."

"StoveTop(tm)?" I asked. "Not homemade?"

"StoveTop(tm)," echoed DD#1.

"And I'll make the potatoes," said Hubs.

"That's it?" I asked.

They nodded.

"Okay, but we have to have a green salad for your vegetable."

DS#1 was really serious about making the pie himself. We bought a can of pumpkin puree and a couple of pre-made pie shells. He made two pies and was very proud of himself. Hubs mashed the potatoes and used the mixer to get them creamy smooth, which is the way he likes them. As for the stuffing, it turns out the kids hated the job of tearing the bread into little pieces and just thought StoveTop(tm) tasted better.

We wore our sweats all day, cooking and watching the Thanksgiving Day parades and football. It was a very relaxed sort of day because I didn't have to get anybody (included myself) cleaned up and dressed up and out the door. Hubs didn't have to worry about getting a page in the middle of dinner.

This year SIL #2 hosted the family. I did have to remind my children to take showers and "wear something nice" (something other than jeans and t-shirts). I brought the tossed green salad, my mother's order of cookie dough, and Christmas wreaths everyone ordered. I spent the morning "chatting" on line with Sis#1 in Maryland and Sis#2 in the U.K., Brothers#1 and #2, and SIL #2. And DS#1 joined in with his laptop. (This was Sis#2's idea. That way she could talk to everyone and avoid the double phone call and the time difference problem. After all, it was a school night for her kids. The online chat worked so well, I have to check and see if my cousin, who is hosting Christmas Eve, has a wireless connection so those of us with laptops can bring them. Chatting online was no worse than trying to keep track of multiple conversations around the dinner table!) DD#2 had her usual shoe crisis, although this time it was "which pair should I wear?" rather than "Where is my other shoe?"

"I'm on standby over New Year's," Hubs told me.

"It's okay. I don't think we're going anywhere," I replied, visions of hot buttered rum dancing in my head...