Thanksgiving wish list

After thirty some odd years of sitting at the kids' table for Thanksgiving, I have been promoted to head chef. It’s like going from janitor to CEO. I would use some kind of sports analogy here like minor to major league, but that’s best left to the sports-writing professionals.

Anyway, it’s on me. And I don’t care if it is just my mom and dad coming, that’s a lot of pressure. Of course, I volunteered for it and am excited about it. I decided I would keep it simple and make it a family affair: turkey cooked by the hubby, dressing by Aunt Pearle (found in the freezer section of Publix), corn by McKenzie’s (freezer section), green beans by Allen’s (found in big can) and rolls by Sister Schubert (We all know where to find her).

But, alas, my husband got involved.

For him, planning a Thanksgiving menu is like the kids making a wish list for Santa - lots of unrealistic items on it. His first one was giblet gravy. For starters, I’m not hundred percent certain what a giblet is much less how to make gravy from it. His second item? Homemade dressing. That I may be able to do, except he and I have a difference of opinion between what qualifies as dressing and what qualifies as stuffing – a major difference of opinion.

Then he requested broccoli casserole. I can’t really blame the man for this one. Ever since we got back from our honeymoon, he’s asked me to make it. I told him as soon as I found a good recipe. That was almost 14 years ago. Needless to say, it made the list. His next item was homemade rolls like my grandmamma used to make. Oh, how I miss her. It’s amazing how certain smells can bring her right back. Makes me wonder if one day my kids will catch a whiff of Little Caesar’s pizza and think, “Oh, reminds me of my mom …”

Back to the wish list …

“I found a good garlic mashed potatoes recipe,” said my helpful husband.

“I don’t think that will work with instant,” I said.

“Well, we can do real ones if you like,” he said. “If we are cooking, we are cooking.”

In case you are unclear, we equals me.

Today, he asked, albeit a bit tentative, “What kind of pies are you making?”

“I am BUYING pumpkin,” I replied.

“Well, what about pecan?” he ventured. “You know Mrs. So and So’s recipe from church. Can you call her to get it?”

Man, he was getting brave in his hunger.

Lest I seem like I’m picking on him, my kids have been every bit as bad. I looked at my list today and someone had added vinilla (sic) ice cream.

Today, as I left for the store, I asked “Does anyone want to go with me?”

Nope.

Then I came home and started cooking, “Does anyone want to help me?”

Nope.

If I weren’t so happy about doing it and so thankful that I am able to and so thrilled to have my parents over, especially my precious mom who has had two very rough years, I would feel a lot like the little red hen. As it is, I feel quite blessed. Not to mention, slightly hungry.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all.