Happy
Thanksgiving!
(without
Martha)
Martha Stewart will not be
dining with us this Thanksgiving.
I'm telling you in advance,
so don't act surprised.
Since Ms. Stewart won't be
coming, I've made a few small changes:
Our guests will note that the
entry hall is not decorated with the swags of
Indian corn and fall foliage I
had planned to make. Instead, I've gotten the
kids involved in the decorating
by having them track in colorful autumn
leaves from the front yard. The
mud was their idea.
  
The dining table will not be covered
with expensive linens, fancy china, or
crystal goblets. If possible,
we will use dishes that match and everyone
will get a fork. Since this IS
thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the
plastic Peter Rabbit plate and
the Santa napkins from last Christmas.
Our centerpiece will not be the
tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I
promised. Instead we will be displaying
a hedgehog-like decoration
hand-crafted from the finest construction
paper. The artist assures me
it is a turkey.
We will be dining fashionably
late. The children will entertain you while
you wait. I'm sure they will be
happy to share every choice comment I have
made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims,
and the turkey hotline. Please
remember that most of these comments
were made at 5:00 a.m. upon
discovering that the turkey was
still hard enough to cut diamonds.
As accompaniment to the children's
recital, I will play a recording of
tribal drumming. If the children
should mention that I don't own a recording
of tribal drumming, or that tribal
drumming sounds suspiciously like a
frozen turkey in a clothes dryer,
ignore them. They are lying.
 
In the spirit of harmony, we will
ask the children to sit at a separate
table. In a separate room. Next
door.
Now, I know you have all seen
pictures of one person carving a turkey in
front of a crowd of appreciative
onlookers. This will not be happening at
our dinner. For safety reasons,
the turkey will be carved in a private
ceremony. I stress "private" meaning:
Do not, under any circumstances,
enter the kitchen to laugh at
me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children
to check on my progress. I have
an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed.
It stands to reason that I will
eventually win. When I do, we will eat.
  
Before I forget, there is one
last change. Instead of offering a choice
between 12 different scrumptious
desserts, we will be serving the
traditional pumpkin pie, garnished
with whipped cream and small
fingerprints. You will still have
a choice; take it or leave it.
Martha Stewart will not be
dining with us this Thanksgiving.
She probably won't come next year either.
For this, I am thankful.
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