Jesse got to go to my sister Jane's house for Thanksgiving.
When my sister called to ask her what food she wanted, or would be disappointed
not to have, Jesse just giggled.
It was extremely entertaining to her; as she had no clue what is usual fare at a Thanksgiving feast.
It's my fault.
I make Bert take us out to eat.
A- It's cheaper. Honest to goodness.
B- I cook every day. Slapping the word 'holiday' on the activity does not make it anything more than it already is- a chore.
C- Ok - so calling what I do everyday 'cooking,' is really just an exaggeration. It's more like 'heating'. And I bet not even Squanto would have wanted a 'heated' Thanksgiving.
D- When you have a choice between Nacho's Supreme... or turkey and cranberry sauce.... well, which would you choose?
Exactly.
And, to keep these family secrets deep in the closet where they belong, we choose to be out of town each Thanksgiving.
It prevents embarrassing explanations -to those to whom we are pretending to be perfect- as to the reason we are found in a Cracker Barrel ...or Taco Bell on that special day.
SO-
Two different years we went to Tombstone.
Once we went to the Grand Canyon.
Once we went skiing in Tahoe.
And last year we went to the Alamo.
It was GREAT!
Loved every. single. second!
(And, since we own the same jackets, all look the same, and didn't get these pictures posted last year - we'll use them for this year! No harm, no foul.)
Afterwards we took a day long bike ride to the other missions in the area.
The next day we got to hit Sea World.
Could any of you ever have guessed that not being a good cook could be such a blessing?!
Neither could Bert, until I pointed it out to him.
The sad news?
This year we had to stay home.
But, while we were worried about blowing our cover, we'd worked up a healthy appetite playing football for three hours.
After that, our pantry of Ramen noodles didn't look very appetizing - even heated.
So, we chanced it.
The boys pulled caps on their heads, Maddie and I threw a jacket over our sweats, and we headed to our local cafe - three miles down the road.
They were advertising a Thanksgiving buffet.
Good news! We fit right in!
Bibbed coveralls, and camouflaged hunters didn't even
notice my cringing housewifery incompetence.
And, who knew?
Turkey and cranberry sauce is
pretty darn good!
Next time, Jane, if you ever get to ask me what I'll be sad not to have at Thanksgiving?
Well, I'll have an answer.
