I really enjoy the
holidays, as long as family (mine) isn’t involved.
This year, Stij and I
are staying home. Riot gear has become
prohibitively expensive to rent these days, and I can’t find anyone who will
lend me a tranquilizer gun with darts, so the decision was pretty much made for
us.
Last night, we began
meal-planning.
“You want a turkey,
right?” I asked.
“Depends.”
“Those are adult
diapers. We are talking about food here.”
Stij sighed. “With
the way you cook, it’s hard to tell the difference.”
Conversation would
have come to an abrupt end with shouted threats and tears if it hadn’t been the
truth.
Can’t argue with
that.
“Okay, so you cook the turkey and I’ll make wise cracks.”
“I’d be happy
to cook the turkey.”
“Fine. What about side dishes? I can make those!”
“Do you
remember three Thanksgivings ago?” Stij asked with right eyebrow raised.
“Yeeeeessssss.”
“I had no
idea, up until that very day, that mashed potatoes were actually flammable.”
“No mashed
potatoes, then. I know! How about green bean casserole?”
“How about I have
you arrested for attempted murder?”
“All
right. Then how about corn? I can make corn. You slit the bag, pour it into boiling water,
and let it cook.”
Stij favored me
with a pitying gaze normally reserved for the irretrievably retarded. “Does Thanksgiving 2009 ring any bells?”
“Well, I won’t
use popcorn this time.”
“What a mess
that was! The whole kitchen was full of
wet popcorn. I had to take a snow shovel to that crap! How many cups did you use, anyhow?”
“Five or six,
I think.”
“Now wonder it
was still popping on Christmas Eve! That
trash can sounded like a the percussion section of a Mariachi band!”
“How about a
tossed salad?”
“Are you
referring to Thanksgiving 2005 and the tossed salad that we tossed out the back
door and poisoned every rabbit in the neighborhood, plus the Chihuahua across
the street.”
“Oh, I
remember that. I thought the Chihuahua
was dancing, though.”
“No, he was
seizing.”
“Well, then,
can I make dessert?”
“Thanksgiving
2013.”
“Oh,
right. I think that coconut cream pie is
still crawling around in back yard somewhere.
Can I at least set the table?”
“Set it on
fire, you mean?”
“I didn’t do
that on purpose.”
“You never do any of it on purpose. It just happens. You become a menace to society every time you
step into a kitchen. This year, I want
to have something more to be thankful for than the Poison Control Center and
the nearest Emergency Room. We are
probably the only couple who orders activated charcoal in fifty-pound bags.”
“We’re almost
out, by the way.”
“I rest my
case.”
So, dear
readers, Stij will be preparing our Thanksgiving feast this year. However, for Christmas dinner….
So funny. Stij must be an angel to cook Thanksgiving dinner. :-)
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the day, however it turns out.