A Thanksgiving Tale ~ One of those cute emails...

Bucsnpats · **A Thanksgiving Tale ~ One of those cute emails...**

Dear Guests at My Thanksgiving Table:

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 nice comment I have made
regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hotline. Please remember that
most of these comments were made by me 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 sanity and 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 (and any
males present) 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 homemade desserts, we will be serving the
traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream, small fingerprints,
and broken crust. You will still have a choice; you may 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.