This will be my first Thanksgiving without my gallbladder. And I just learned that we have one more special needs eater in the family. I’ll tell you what, this year I will meet you all halfway. I’ll make the same meal I make every year and those of you with vegetarian, vegan, and gluten issues can stop eating halfway through the meal. Problem solved.
This war on Thanksgiving has gone too far. Bacon, butter, sugar and cream are as important to Thanksgiving as the damn turkey. Vegetarians, God help them, have always managed to graze through my table and find enough to satisfy them. And if they stumbled upon a piece of bacon or two… well nobody has died in all the years I’ve put this meal on the table. But this latest request for a gluten-free meal has gone too far. A gluten-free Thanksgiving is like a rainy day – gray and soggy. I ain’t gonna do it, honey. Get mad, get glad or scratch your ass, it don’t make a difference to me. My Thanksgiving meal will have some gluten in it just as sure as a pig’s ass is pork. And we just might have some of that, too.
The holidays are not a time for dieting. This family has tried more diets than I can shake a stick at and somehow we still manage to have more backside than most. If you’re worried about how many calories are in my meal, I suggest you park your car a mile from the house and walk your fat ass the rest of the way. It’s not what you’re eating sweetie. It’s the fact that your sofa has become the new playground and your children spend more time on their electronic devices than your grandpa did on the pot. Gluten free my ass. Get out and get some fresh air and sunshine.
And now that we have that out-of-the-way, let’s get down to brass tacks.
1 ) I have new floors. If it’s raining outside, leave your shoes outside. If it’s not raining, leave your shoes outside. Molly, those spikes you call heels better not come near my floors. Leave them at home because if you leave them outside the kids might use them for lawn darts.
2.) If you have children, then you are called a parent which means you should be parenting. Just because you don’t care what your house looks like, doesn’t mean I don’t care about mine. Keep an eye on your kids so I don’t have to keep an eye on my things.
3.) Your children can have as much soda and cookies as they please. This is grandma’s house for goodness sake.
4.) Upon arriving at my house look for the basket on the entry table. Put your cellphone there because if I see it at the dinner table, you won’t see it again until Christmas. Upon departure, you can take the damn thing with you, but in the meantime maybe you can try having an actual relationship with your loved ones.
5.) Mary is pregnant again. Everyone bring an extra pie. (And somebody keep an eye on her other rugrats – I swear, those kids could trip over a cordless phone.) Despite modern advances in the food industry, turkeys are only so big. We are a large family and because of modern advances in the food industry our asses are big as well. So this leaves us with the need to achieve a delicate balance between how much we CAN eat vs. how much we WILL eat to make sure there is enough for everyone. Please monitor your children (see rule 2) and make sure they take only what they will eat. And if you don’t get enough, don’t worry. There’s always pie.
6.) Iced tea without sugar is like Thanksgiving without gluten. I think I’ve said enough on that subject.
7.) You needn’t bring anything, but if you insist on bringing a dish, then go ahead and bring it. If it’s good, we’ll make room on the buffet. If it’s jello salad, we’ll make room in the trash. And speaking of trash, mine gets picked up on Wednesdays by a truck . Your children’s gets picked by you today. (see rule 2)
8.) Rhonda, honey, you’re wife number two. WE can talk about number one but you can’t. Just be thankful there’s not a number three.
9.) Brian and Sylvia, when I told you not to bring anything, I meant it. If Chloe is not allowed to bring her Jell-O crap, you are not allowed to bring you’re your fruit cake, your zucchini bread or your cleverly disguised broccoli in pasta salad. I serve the same meal my mother did fifty years ago. When I die, you can decide if you want to carry on the tradition. Until then, bring just yourself and an appetite.
10.) Unlike the Trump’s table, everyone is welcome at mine. Just let me know in advance if you are bringing guests so I can make sure we have enough food to go around.
11.) The best photographs are the ones I am not in. Point your camera in a different direction. If you want photos of me, I have plenty to share that were taken in the 1950’s. Back then the camera was kinder to me.
12.) If you want to talk politics come sit next to me. There’s a good chance I’ll either convince you to change your politics or change your desire to talk about politics. And if neither happens, I can always turn off my hearing aids.
At my age, every meal could be my last. I’m thankful we’ll be having this one together again. Let’s make the most of it. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet corn, green beans, cranberry sauce, homemade bread, pumpkin pie, apple pie, pecan pie, more pie… What’s not to like?
In memory of your Grandfather, the back yard has horseshoes and the back fridge has beer. Drink until it is gone. The damn stuff is probably ripe with gluten, but I prefer wine anyway. One from each family needs to be the designated driver.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I am thankful to still be here. I mean it really.
4 comments on “Thanksgiving Letter to the Family”
Don’t you just love Margaret & Helen?
Yes, I do. 🙂
Get mad, get glad, or scratch your ass? I want to hang out with you, lady.