Thanksgiving Tears and Torches

I stood at the counter and wiped a few stray tears from my cheeks as Yoan entered the kitchen to put a dish away. He looked at me gravely for a moment.  "Mom, have you been crying?"

"Yes. Yes I have."

"Oh. " Yoan shrugged and continued with his chore.

"Are you going to ask me why I'm crying?"

Yoan's eyes flew to my face briefly then back to the floor. He shrugged as only an eight year old can. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." With near tactical evasion skills, he tried to slink his way out of the kitchen.

"No. Really. Ask me why I was crying. "

" Um....... Why were you crying? "

I held out a bag of freshly chopped onions. He knew his job. Obligingly, he came forward and sniffed." Agh! " As if a skunk had sprayed him in face, he reeled away clutching his nose and whimpering.

This Thanksgiving has not been for the faint of heart disease. Inspiration struck David a few weeks ago and we pulled together a full six course meal including baked cheeses,  butternut soup, 3 kinds of bread, 4 different pies, Mac n cheese and the necessary food coma to follow. We even had a great looking recipe for smoked turkey.

Thanksgiving eve. The turkey has brined for a full 12 hours and is now in the grill being smoked. Scents of pie and smoke mingle in the kitchen. I'm doing up the last of the evening's dishes when David pops in and says, "You need to see this". I don't know about other husbands, but those words coming from my husband are never good. The last time he said that to me, I stepped out of my van to find that a certain little imp had packed our gas tank opening with tiny sticks and then replaced the cap. And it was labor day. And my car was dangerously close to the "you're about to have to push me home" stage.

I took a breath and followed David outside to find my grill spouting flames. Not just smoke. Serious flames. My carefully prepared turkey was a Thanksgiving torch. Crisp black skin on the outside gave way to chilly rawness on the inside. No good. We weighed our options and headed for Walmart  at ten-thirty on the night before Thanksgiving.  We scrounged the nearly empty chicken aisle and came up with enough chicken breasts for the adults. And chicken nuggets for the kids.  When I broke the sad news to the kids this morning that the turkey had been cremated and they'd have to eat nuggets, they did a happy jig. "I love chicken nuggets!" Tony announced. Ah, well. Not a complete fail then.

Through the stench of onions and charred turkey, we actually had a great Thanksgiving. Family gathered and ate themselves sick. We're visiting and enjoying each others company. We've laughed and reminisced.  I hope my other friends out there get to do the same! Happy Thanksgiving to you all as well!