Thanksgiving, for all of it's wonderful lack of pretense (no gifts to buy, after all!), should be loads less stressful than Christmas. Alas, this year it was not to be. The agenda was a nice quiet, no frills dinner at my place for my roommate, two close friends, and yours truly. Then I got invited to a family gathering - by my grandmother. I cannot stress the difference that last part makes. Saying no to my grandmother was an impossibility.
But really, how difficult could it all be? My dinner's scheduled for 6pm. The family meal starts at roughly at 3pm. If I arrive there at noon, munch a little and leave immediately after, I'll be home in time to pull the turkey out at 3:30ish. But life always has plans. As fate would have it, my parents fly into town unexpectedly at the last minute, pushing my schedule back at least an hour.
Fine. I can roll with the punches - just a quick phone call home and the roommate can remove the turkey from the oven as scheduled. And even when I find out during that phone call that I forgot to place the pan below the turkey; I hear the apartment now looks like Willie Nelson's tourbus (without the dreamcatchers I imagine he has for some reason). But seriously, now the cracks are starting to show. Frantic running around I can handle - food preparation going wrong is just too much. I manage to sneak out in time to make it home by 5pm.
The evening is, to be quite honest a blur. I spend the evening on oblivious auto-pilot. Host, cook, bake, clean, repeat. The food turns out great, especially the smoked turkey. Chalk it up to another recipe I didn't know I had in me.
After everyone else has left I vow to my best friend that next year, we order in. For two. Any other interested parties can bring their own stuff.
How many days until Christmas again?
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