Warts and All.....A Family Thanksgiving Tale

I went to bed last night to the smell of baking brownies and dishwasher soap.  They don't smell good together....just in case you ever wondered.

But, thankfully, the smell I woke up to this morning was much better.  Turkey.

It lured me up out of my bed and beckoned me to the kitchen.  Turkey! Turkey! By the end of this week, I'll be so turkeyed out, that those exclamation marks will be replaced with sad depressing periods, but seeing as today was my first go round with the blessed poultry, the exclamation marks get to stay.

My mom was all a'bustle around the kitchen and rest of the house getting all the food ready to go and the house companyfied.  The toilets had to be cleaned up (because my children are here...and we have already established their inability to hit a target) and my mama's famous mashed taters had to be whipped up.  Matters of pure urgency, for sure.  So we spent the morning doing this, that, and the other of all things domestic.

The boys were loud and were only messing the house up (and continuing to miss the target in our already clean bathroom) so we sent them outside to make forts in the woods.

We are currently experiencing a stage with Keaton in which he thinks he is too cool to smile and his hair always looks as if it exploded out of the top of his head.  Hello, pre-adolescent boy.

While forts were being constructed outside, guests were arriving inside.  And health care reform was being debated.  Which was my cue to exit and go take more pictures of the fort building.

Much more interesting than health care. 

Time for dinner.  Finally.  And there was so much food, we could barely fit it all on the table and still have elbow room.  That is the sure sign of feasthood.  And feasthood it was.

See that bowl at the bottom center of that picture?  Those are my mama's amazing-delicious-no-one-makes-mashed-taters-like-my-mama mashed potatoes.  Yes.  They are that good.  Don't try to tell me that your grandma or your mama makes good mashed potatoes....because though I'm sure that theirs are delightful, they just don't beat these.  No way.  No how.

Oh...and look...a fly on the side of the bowl.  Even he agrees about the deliciousness of the taters.  And now we're going to pretend that we didn't see that and move on to the picture of my plate.

Of which none of the calories counted.  Because today was our holiday.  And calories don't count on holidays.

And, yes.  I ate it all.  Every bite.

During dinner, I realized that I really should have been seated at the kids' table in the den.  Because I was feeling way out of place with all the talk that was going on at the grown-up table.  More health care discussion.  Ugh.  And then talk of all the medications every member of the table is currently taking.  My daddy even whipped out his medication cheat sheet out of his wallet...oh yes he did.  Ugh.  And then there was talk of wart removal and duct tape.  Ugh.  And then back to health care.  Double Ugh. 

If only I were kidding.

Here is the pill pondering, insurance inquiring, wart wondering group.....discussing. 

I drowned my sorrows in more mashed potatoes.

Oh.  Who came?  Well, it was my three littl'uns and I and Jim-Dad and my mama, of course.  Kirk is hunting in Missouri with his daddy, and my sister and her family couldn't make it this Thanksgiving.  My dad's step-brother, Bob, came (that's him in the plaid shirt), and then my Aunt JoAnn (Jim-Dad's sister) and her son/my first cousin, Richard, were there.

Jim-Dad and Rich

Jim-Dad and his baby sister

Despite discussions of medications and Medicare (ugh.), the time with family is always very precious.  I'm so grateful for a rich heritage of family that believes in family.  And my dad's side is so very evident of that.  It's impossible to go through a meal with these folks without thinking about my Nanny and Grandpa who have passed away, but it feels good to know that we're carrying on.  Although we didn't have a little plate of pickles and olives on our table....and Nanny always had pickles and olives.  Oh well.

I guess everyone finally got tired of talking about things that were completely boring me (I left and went and watched cake decorating shows on tv...no more wart removal for me, thank you), and our company headed home.

And the rest of us succumbed to turkey induced comas.  And we all woke up when it was dark outside.  Just to heat up leftovers and eat more turkey.  Naturally.

Then we watched an old made-for-tv Christmas movie with horrible acting and even worse outfits.  But it had a good story, and it just felt cozy and comfortable and homey.

And as if we hadn't topped the day's tank off with enough fun and excitement, we decided to go out with one last shabang before turning in for the night.  We gathered around the table and played a hearty game of Clue.

It was Mr. Green in the Observatory with the Trophy.  Just in case you were wondering.

And now I'm in bed. 

And reflecting on the time I've had so far with my family.  Slow precious lazy days that just feel good.  I'll take these days over busy hustle-n-bustle ones any.time.

Even if they include prescription ponderings and side-effect stories.

Warts and all.

Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name.

1 Chronicles 29:13