Can we talk?

Dread of Cooking

         By the time my company shows up Thursday, we will have shrimp ready for cocktail sauce, a roast turkey breast, a large ham, dressing, gravy, green beans, mashed sweet potatoes, cranberry relish, pumpkin pies, a pecan pie, hot rolls and butter, store bought dip and chips, homemade cheese spread and fancy crackers, salad, and iced tea. And juice boxes for the kids. The good dishes (I didn't say china) will be out with the best stainless steel.

         The house will be dusted, mopped, polished, and books lined up neatly. The toilets will sparkle and beds free for napping (my brother with cancer, and the babies need naps). I will be exhausted, but if I slip off to take a nap, I'm being rude. My father, who can go to sleep sitting up in the doctor's office or in church, will have no trouble going to sleep in the living room full of people. The little kids will run around and giggle and imitate his sleeping sounds, even the toddlers.

         I will work until six again tomorrow, and get home, supposedly in snow, to prepare the night's meal, and do the turkey and ham, set the table for breakfast, and get the vegetables ready to cook Thursday morning. The turkey cooks during the wee hours. Dad wants oyster stew for breakfast, so he'll have his fancy breakfast ahead of his big meal.

         We'll have a stiff drink of eggnog at the end of the day. Maybe if it's stiff enough, I can go to sleep immediately after. The day after will be like a hangover day. Rest, let your stomach recuperate, take antacids, and if you can move by afternoon, go get some exercise. I dream of having the next day to do Christmas cards and start wrapping presents, but it never works that way. So Friday is not shopping like when I was younger, and my mother did all this preparation. I used to shop and then go to work! Now I have off, but I'm still crashing from giving them the Thanksgiving they want. I want it, too. I just want someone else to do it!!