Last year was my first year hosting Thanksgiving. Due to an odd assortment of circumstances, The Mom ordered all the food from The Krogert, and I just heated it up and put it all in dishes.
This year, I wanted to host, because it's kind of become my holiday now, and I did all of the cooking.
Well, all of the cooking I could pry out of my mother's hands. She has some trouble giving up the control, which I understand, since I wanted to do it all myself, and she kept butting in.
So, lest you think I did not get the full Thanksgiving experience, let me assure you I now fully understand the role of the matriarch on this festive holiday.
Because I was cooking the entire day, I didn't get as many pictures as usual, but I still consolidated them because it was still plenty…
I also pulled everything out, made sure dishes were clean, put the ingredients into bowls, etc.
I also made lists, timelines, and all sorts of organizational things to get me ready for The Big Show.
Side note: I cleaned my entire apartment to get ready for company, and my parents were so surprised at how clean it is. Like I'm going to make you step over my craft crap and move that paper cutter out of the way so you can sit at the table…
I do not eat pumpkin pie, but tradition dictates that one must be present at the table.
The Dad, The Mom, The Sister, and presumably The Sister's Boyfriend would all eat a piece, so I didn't mind.
Except no one ate any pumpkin pie. Not. one. bite. I sent an entire pie, dish and all, home with The Parents to be eaten or thrown away.
This was not the only item to which this happened.
I loved my turkey. I even pulled out the big camera to take a picture of this beauty. Mom bought her, but I fixed her up and cooked her and she was perfect.
Lest you think I have grown up into this role, fear not. I tried to convince The Mom to let me put lemon halves under the skin to look like boobies, and before she was put into the pan and the oven, I made sure she was offered a last dance, both waltz, and pop-and-lock style.
She was honored well, and tasted delicious. Her sacrifice was not in vain.
Deviled eggs: The BANE of my existence this year. I finally got them together, but getting them peeled almost did me in. But they were good and loved, and that is a success.
The Mother bought the can, and ensured I kept it chilled so it would slide right out, and I found that to be disgusting, so I made some cranberry sauce from scratch. From real (organic) cranberries and orange juice and sugar and blood and sweat and tears. And not one person had any.
Rolls: Can't have it without these.
I cooked for five hours straight. Didn't sit down for more than ten minutes.
The family cleared their plates.
And then went their separate ways.
Mom helped clean up the turkey (that's kind of her thing), and I put everything in tupperware to be sent home, and then everyone vanished.
So, I was left with the clean up.
Traditional Thanksgiving experience: check.
What about Daisy?
What was she doing this entire day?
This is what she did most of the time, but during the important times (anytime anything was taken out of the oven), she was directly underfoot risking life and limb to get just a small morsel that may have dropped.
Worry not- turkey is safe for puppies, so I gave her a plate of her own with turkey and her favorite wet dog food, and she was quite content this Thanksgiving day.
Then, I went and stood in line at Target for a new tv. It's not the cheapest, best deal, but it was the second cheapest and second best deal, and I had been looking at getting a new tv for a little while now.
Now I just need to figure out what to do with the other, completely functional, completely working, freaking GINORMOUS box tv that is currently residing in my living room. Sigh.
And that last picture? It's not just my bed, though I do love it. Underneath that cute little bunch of bedding is a snoring dog that was apparently too chilly to stay outside of the covers.
Happy Turkey Day y'all.
Bring on Christmas.