Thanksgiving That Almost Wasn't

This year our Thanksgiving celebrations were fraught with adventure... and disease.  Let me paint you a picture using my words.

The week or two leading up to Thanksgiving:

The Hubs - Began experiencing olfactory hallucinations (smelling things that aren't there) due to extreme fatigue, or schizophrenia.... the jury is still out on the cause.

Me - Contracted pneumonia.

Ms. Els - Managed to start into a nice hacking cough - viral - that made me question just how unconditional a mother's love really is.

Cadie Lu - Came screaming to us at 9:00 p.m. on a Saturday saying her ear was exploding.  After a very loving Instacare visit she was diagnosed with a double ear infection.

Joely - Tested the waters with croup, but didn't feel miserable enough.  Recovered from that and then decided to follow Cadie Lu's example, only do her one better, and woke up screaming at 3:30 a.m. Thanksgiving morning saying his ear was exploding.  Double ear infection.

Jabes - In the tradition of being the youngest and needing to be heard, went all out.  Began the downhill slide with croup which he then followed with a double ear infection, sinus infection, and pink eye.

It was awesome!

You know things aren't going well when your brother who is dying of cancer sends you a text asking if he can do anything for you. 

So, because of all this delightful mischief going on, and the fact that people were busy caring for my children rather than making dinner plans, Thanksgiving was kind of a thrown together affair.

This year was a "Ridges" year with my family.  I should have known things weren't going to be all buttery roles and turkey coma when mother announced she wasn't going to make mashed potatoes, or homemade stuffing.

WHAT?

Instead she was going to have my dad dig up some potatoes out of the garden, slap them on a baking sheet and do baked potatoes.

And she'd be making Stove Top. 

I'm tearing up just remembering it. 

The day before Thanksgiving:

My sister Emily arrives from St. George.  It's her 27th birthday.  She ditches her kids and hub with her in-laws and comes to mom's house to save us from ourselves.  Fulfills all her birthday dreams by making lots of pies and rolls.  I lay on the couch, near death, and watch.

Dad gives me a ham to cook for dinner tomorrow.  What the ham?  But then I remember that I pretty much love pig in all it's forms, so I took it home to cook.

Thanksgiving Day:

The day begins with a gentle awakening by Joely screaming his head off at 3:30 a.m.  We never go back to bed.  We wait until 9:00 a.m. when Instacare opens. 

While waiting mom calls to let me know that the turkey is still frozen.  Looks like it's gonna be ham tonight.

In-laws call inviting us to lunch.  We jump at the chance.  They have turkey and homemade stuffing.  Woot woot!  It's our one shot at a real dinner.

The Hubs takes Ms. Els, and Cadie Lu to his parent's house while him and Joely go to the doctor.  Jabes is napping.

During this time I realize I haven't showered for like 3 days and that I really don't have time for pneumonia.  Have a stern talk with myself about bucking up and getting better.  Not sure if it's going to work... I can be stubborn.

On the way to in-laws I drop ham back to parents to cook it their darn selves!  I make my mom come get the ham from me at the curb in order to avoid all the stairs.  While handing her the ham out the window I make a gentle, subtle ploy for mashed potatoes.  I mean, if we can't have turkey then can we at least mash up the taters?

During said plea Dad comes out to return a book he'd borrowed from me.  Mom mentions my potato wishes.  Dad's reply, "There will be potatoes.  You can do whatever you want with them."  I believe he's deep in mourning over the turkey and can't be kind at that moment.  So I tell my mom that if she'll just put a potato on my plate I'll wet it with my tears and mash it with the moisture from them.  Also, tears are salty, so I won't need salt.

She accuses me of being dramatic.

As I drive away I yell out the window, "Oh, and I sure can't wait for that Stove Top!  I've been waiting an entire year for that!"

Off to lunch at my in-laws.  But first, I must fall asleep on their couch for an hour.  Glorious.

In-laws have turkey, homemade stuffing, but alas, something is missing.  No potatoes - mashed or otherwise - adorn their table.  What's happening?  Are we embarking on the Great American Potato Famine?

Fast forward to 4:00 p.m., arrival at my parent's house.  What is that I smell?  Did we have a turkey miracle occur?  Indeed we did.  They have somehow salvaged the bird.  We have turkey and ham.  Happy, happy day! 

Dad's mood is greatly improved while carving meat.

And then, I hear the heartwarming sound of my mom mashing potatoes!  Sweet heaven.  But, wait, something is wrong.  I wander into the kitchen to find that my mom - in a totally typical moment of experimentation - has put the potatoes in a blender to "mash" them.  Can you say potato soup?

Luckily she realizes what's happening and only puts in half the potatoes.  Then, in another typical moment, she attempts to salvage the potatoes.  She hand mashes the other half and then stirs the soupy potatoes into the hand mashed potatoes.  We all wait to see how this is going to go.

Glue.

That's how it went.  I casually and non-judgementally mention that the potatoes schlopping out of the blender have a rather gluey quality to them.

Let's just say that when Thanksgiving dinner was over we still had a bowl full of glue sitting in the center of the table.  Okay, that's not totally fair, my bro-in-law Marty ate a bunch.  He apparently likes the taste of horse hooves in his festivities.  Nasty.

The good news is that there was pie.  Lots and lots of hip hugging pie.  All sugary and delicious in it's homemade crust.  And whipping cream.  Real whipping cream.

All in all, as my brother said, I'll never forget this Thanksgiving.

The Thanksgiving that almost wasn't!