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 choice
comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey
hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made 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 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 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
you 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. Cheese Sauce
stains. Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of
offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will
be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream
and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; 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.
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 choice
comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey
hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made 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 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 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
you 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. Cheese Sauce
stains. Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of
offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will
be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream
and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; 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.
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