Thursday, November 24, 2011

Thanksgiving Day 2004


JoAnna and I always give up our bedroom when her parents visit. With Uncle Albert assigned to Eddie’s room, and Eddie moved in with his brother, that left the two of us with the family room, where we slept on an inflatable mattress with a built-in, battery-operated pump. It beats sleeping directly on the floor, though after the first tossing-and-turning night, I wasn’t sure by how much. (Last night was a big improvement.) Eddie joined us on the couch, probably because his sprawling brother refused to share his bed, demanding that he sleep on the floor instead.

Thanksgiving morning, it took some careful maneuvering on my part to attain a fully upright, standing position. I feared that the pain in my lower back might incapacitate me, an unpleasant circumstance that I’ve been able to avoid for quite some time now. (Thursday night I took a Bayer back and body pain capsule and experienced an almost unbroken night’s sleep.)
JoAnna blocked my way and raised her face up to mine as I walked through the kitchen on my way to the bathroom.

“You don’t want to kiss me now,” I warned. “I have the worst taste in my mouth. I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Romantic” is definitely not one of the first adjectives that my wife would use to describe herself in the morning.

After JoAnna and her dad returned from 9 o’clock mass, the Thanksgiving dinner preparations began in earnest, though I had very little to do with them. I took a lazy approach to the holiday, stretching out on the couch in the family room, where Eddie and I did our father-son Bond-ing with Thunderball. To me – and Eddie heartily agrees – Sean Connery is the only true 007.

The adults played cards during the first half of the afternoon. Our game of choice has a variety of names – “Down and Up the River”, the most cumbersome, is the only one that comes to mind. During the first hand, everyone is dealt 10 cards. Trump is designated by turning over the top card of what’s left of the deck. Each player then bids on how many tricks he or she will take. A total of 20 hands are played in the following sequence: 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. As often as I’ve played this game, I’ve never understand how to keep score.
Wednesday’s cnn.com online poll asked the following question: What is your favorite part of Thanksgiving? Three choices were offered: food, parades, football.

And the percentages? 82%, 5%, and 13%.

No surprises there.

During the morning, the kitchen TV was tuned to the Macy’s parade, but nobody paid it much attention. From the bits and pieces I caught, the broadcast appeared to be a moveable stage of lip-synching acts with major-league kid appeal.

During our card game, we flipped back and forth between Bond and football, but nobody was much interested in watching the Colts embarrass the hapless Lions on their home field.

All of us would have voted for “food” as being our favorite part of the day.

Considering our menu, I don’t see how it could have been otherwise.

Roast Turkey
Whipped Potatoes
Oven-Baked Dressing
Gravy
Baby Carrots
String Beans
Pureed Yams Served in Orange Cups
Rolls
Relish Tray
Pumpkin Pie
Apple Pie
Pecan Pie

With so much food, the relish tray remained untouched for the most part. I concentrated on the turkey, potatoes, and dressing, with gravy drizzled over all three hefty portions.

Larry ate three helping of dressing and then was ready to go straight to dessert. No wonder his stomach protrudes so far beyond the waist of his pants.

Everyone was in an extremely lethargic mood after dinner, so much so that we didn’t even play cards. In fact, Alice went to bed at 9:00, followed shortly thereafter by Larry and Albert.

No comments:

Labels