Thanksgiving Days Gone By

I was sitting and chilling with the kids today. We were discussing what we were going to do for Thanksgiving. This year is going to be a bit different. My MIL will be here (hopefully) this week so I plan to do a spread a week early. All the traditional stuff. Then we'll do a smaller one next week for just us.

Anyways, my kids were asking about my days growing up and our Thanksgiving dinners. Honestly, I do not recall any from my childhood. The earliest one I do remember was as a teen. But not the day, the day after. My middle sister and I were eating leftovers and sat at the table stuffing small olives with turkey. Do you have any idea how hard it was to put a sliver of Turkey into an olive? In between stuffing olives we pigged out on rolls with turkey, dressing and cranberry sauce - a sandwich if you will. Then we went out in her red VW Bug and looked at Christmas lights and sang from the top of our lungs every Christmas Carol we could remember the words to and some we made up.

The most memorable Thanksgiving happened about 25 years ago. This was after middle sister was married. Dinner was always at Mom's house. Mom and I (well mostly mom) would do the bulk of the cooking. My Grandmother always brought her wonderful, famous Macaroni and Cheese pie, cornbread and sometimes a pie or two. Mom and I would set the table, putting all the foods in their dishes on the table so we could all sit down and eat. Sometimes we would put things out and go back to cooking or make a quick check on the guests.

Well, I had a cat. Mr Jingle Bell. My sister gave him to me for Christmas when I was 14. I think he hated my Grandmother. I really do. The feeling was mutual. Every time she visited, that cat would sneak up and bat her in the back of the head.

Back to the table spread. Picture a nice table, laid out with dressing on a platter, rolls, greenbean casserole, corn, carrots, cranberry sauce, pickles, etc and the "famous" macaroni pie. The Turkey and Ham had not made it to the table yet. Now picture a 15# cat, gorging himself on said macaroni pie. My mom almost had heart failure. She and I were the only ones who knew. What did Mom do? She very quietly took a spoon and "messed" the pie up so that no one would know. Nobody did but the two of us. Wonder why she and I didn't eat any that day? Um, Sis? Now you know. You ate cat spit that day.

After that, all of my Thanksgiving days have been pretty boring. But, every time I make macaroni and cheese, at least now everyone knows why I might grin and chuckle a bit.