Thanksgiving Dinner
Thanksgiving Dinner
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm
telling you 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 welcoming
effect.
- 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 is a turkey.
- We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain
you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice
comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey
hotline.
- Please remember that most of these comments were made 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
recording 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 start 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 spirit 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 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. The 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
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 desserts, we will be serving
the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small
fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She
probably won't come next year either. I am thankful.
By: Barbara A. Tyler (as Printed in Today's Woman, November 2000)
