Our Traditions for Turkey Day

Our traditions here are fairly new, as in about 11 years old. That's how long we've been together. We go to the in-law's, we don't cook, we try to help and end up getting in the way, we enjoy good food, my dearest picks a fight with his brother, everyone but brother has a good laugh. We pack up the leftovers and head home.

I think the food is the tradition. We always have turkey, sweet potato casserole laden with marshmallows, mashed potatoes, and a green Jell-o and nut "salad". This year grandma is in Texas for the holiday, we miss her.

This is Dearest Husband making the gravy. Gravy is very important to him.


This year we almost didn't have candied yams. Yikes. I am so glad we did. I love the marshmallow-y goodness. Nana is adding the marshmallows. Yummy.


Grampa carves the turkey breast. I don't have many pictures of Grampa. I got one today!


LIl'Bug waits hungrily at the table. This is her first year not in an elevated high chair. She was so excited!


Ah yes. This is Uncle J. Oh wait. Where is he? Dinner started 45 minutes late.....where could he be? No problem. He's still at home. We called to check. Don't worry, being late to holiday feasts is his tradition. :)


So, upon reflecting on this glorious day, (a day that started for me at 5AM with Lil'Bug's latest bout of "bad poopies".....) I asked my dearest if he realized that I, at age 30, have never cooked Thanksgiving dinner? That this year all my offers to help or cook something were refused? I then asked him if I am really that bad of a cook?

"Yup," he replied, barely looking up from his computer. Then, in response to my stunned silence, he offered, "You're just inexperienced and Nana doesn't need that stressing her out in the kitchen...." He blathered on for a bit but I decided to change the subject, as my heart, fueled by sleep deprivation and pregnancy hormones, was totally broken. Just know that despite the attempted change in subject I ended up in tears. He thought he was being funny, I was over sensitive about it.

You see, I burned myself last week re-heating cheese noodles. Not an, "Ouch, that hurt," burn....a full on, thumb blistered and bleeding burn that is still healing. Then yesterday I burned the same hand, re-scorched the thumb, added the next two fingers to the emergency. My tot now knows about 17 new swear words, hearing them spew from my mouth and I cried and screamed in pain. How did I do this, you might ask? Stupid. I am a walking accident in the kitchen. I always have been. I decided to wash the stove top, but first boiled water and made a cup of tea. The grate was hot, I forgot I had just boiled water using the front burner, and grabbed it to throw it in the sink to soak. Gah. It still hurts. Yay for ice packs.

So instead of being pissed off and really sad, I am grateful that my talents are acknowledged and that means, for one day, I don't have to cook food or clean my kitchen or maim myself in the process of either. This one day I got to take lots of pictures, take a nap, AND eat pumpkin pie. Cool.