It was the first Thanksgiving after we married, and both families were coming to our house to celebrate. I was nervous when I heard the plan, but happy also. For three years we’d had to do attend two major dinners on the same day for all of the holidays.
I’m a good cook, so I wasn’t really worried about the food. I was worried about how to manage the different (and sometimes difficult) personalities in the same relatively small space. We didn’t exactly live in a mansion, and eleven people can take a state dining room at times.
My husband had taken on the chore of preparing the rooms for our guests. We did have a dining room, and by setting up a “kid’s table,” we managed to fit the adults around the larger dining room table. It’d be a squeeze, but if we put the “lefties” on the correct corner, it should work. If all else failed, I can eat with either hand fairly gracefully so I could fill in.
That might seem unfair, but you don’t know my menu for a feast. I’m picky. Besides the traditional foods, I was making my signature dishes, and that took time. A lot of time. Dinner was set for four o’clock, but cooking started way earlier. You can’t make French onion soup in an hour, not if you make your own broth. The tiny ornamental pumpkins had to be roasted, cleaned and filled with custard. Nope, I’d be putting in a solid eight hours before we sat down at the table.
There was only one, tiny problem to mar the morning for me. I had *always* watched the Macy’s Parade as it happened. Even as a kid, we’d wheedle our parents to get us to grandma’s house so we could watch it on her color set. Yeah, we could record it, but it just wasn’t the same.
I sighed quietly as I went into the kitchen. My husband looked up from his ministrations in the dining room, grinned and winked at me. I wasn’t quite sure why until I went into the kitchen.
Little did I know, my husband had thought of that, too. When I went into the kitchen to start the dinner preparations, he’d rigged the laptop to show me the parade in real time. Have I ever mentioned how much I love that man?