But I did manage to accomplish other things. Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
This is the only photo I have of the table. Behold! a bunch of covered dishes and some foil lumps. |
In case you haven't figured it out yet: I cooked my first Thanksgiving dinner this year. I cannot adequately express how aggrandized my sense of accomplishment is. When that turkey came out of the oven, I wished there was a cliff nearby to pose on top of.
Gluten-free sweet potato chiffon pie: Exhibit C? Beautiful thing I did not make. (I've run out evidence of "things I did instead of blogging," but I still have photos left.) |
We have a mini-fridge out back where we kept the main dish (in a brown grocery sack). When I retrieved it on Thanksgiving morning, I said "hi" to the neighbor's turkeys, like usual. And suddenly, I felt like I'd been interrupted in the middle of dragging a carpet-wrapped body from my car trunk: "Heeeey, Bob. . . . How're the kids? Nah, nah, I got this, thanks."
Later, they visited the scene of the crime.
"You know and I know what happened here, Becky, but no judge is going to convict on butter splatters alone." |
"I can't prove you did it, but I can defecate on your deck." |
I've been asking people this all week (and loving the answers): What dishes (beyond turkey) are required in your family to make Thanksgiving feel like Thanksgiving?
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