Want to hear the truth about Thanksgiving?
Well, it’s great.
As long as it is at someone else’s house!!
Spend 2 days cleaning up your home. If you are anything like me. Procrastinate so much you still end up doing some crazy kind of shuffle and hide so your house is presentable before the first guest arrives.
Spend a few hundred dollars shopping for the essentials..then send the Hubby out in a panic because you forgot the Cranberry sauce that Grandma simply must have.
Oh good grief. Don’t forget the booze eh?
Then let the cooking begin!
Let’s talk Turkey.
Raw Poultry is truly disgusting.
Seriously! Have you ever really looked at that poor dimpled skinned turkey before you stuff it’s butt and neck full of bread and seasoning? Ug. Big Gag factor. BIG! Plus you are supposed to massage it with butter? Huh? Forget it. If I’m not massaging my Husband, I’m sure as hell not massaging a dead bird.
Get that bird in the oven in the nick of time.
Yell at the kids that yes they must wear the clothes you put out for them.
Beg your Hubby to turn the football off, just for a couple of hours.
Sprint through the shower.
Coral the pets.
One last vacuum.
Check the potatoes and disgusting bird.
Ahhhh. Ready.
.
.
.
.
Then they are freakin late! Are you kidding me.
When all your tardy guests do finally arrive. Get a nice visit in.
Eat that huge meal you spent 2 days preparing for as fast as any Big Mac Combo.
Sit back in your squeaky wood dinette chair that is only used 3 times a year and enjoy your moment of satisfaction.
There, did you enjoy it?
Good moment over.
Now go look at the flipin dishes!
It looks like a small bomb went off in there!
But don’t worry, I’m sure you lovely FAMILY will help. Nope,they have to run.
Mwah, Mwah.
Do dishes for two more days.
UG.
The only saving grace.
You get the leftovers.
Happy Belated Thanksgiving Y’all.
Hope you get to go to your Mother In Laws House!
I could have written this post. I still have a whole month before I have to deal with the holiday madness, but I’m already dreading it. And don’t even get me started on the Christmas Crazies. Whoever said “it’s the most wonderful time of year” was either a man or had been dipping into the eggnog.