I came to the internet this evening hoping to read your tales of inlaw nightmares and family theatrics and too much wine with your turkey. I assumed you would be blogging your brains out, working through your myriad issues now that the dishes are washed and your kids are in bed.
I am sadly disappointed.
Either you haven't had time to write those posts yet, you all had marvelous holidays with your extended families, or are so shell-shocked from the experience you just can think about it right now.
That, or your families read your blogs.
Hey, if it's that last one, send me an email about how horrible your Turkey Day Feast was, okay?
Mine was fine, a boring shade of lovely; I'm looking for some drama.
4 comments:
Sorry to maintain the disappointment. Everyone was surprisingly well-behaved on our end. Well, except for my usually very kind dad referring to the newest aunt's frozen cranberry-cream cheese-whipped cream loaf (dessert, if you ask me, but served as "salad") as "Pink Thing" a bit too loudly.
We don't give Thanks 'round these parts, but why don't you try again after Christmas?
Sorry, babe ... no drama here. We went to Chef Geoff's uptown (superb food and meh service), ate a truly obscene amount of dinner, drank two bottles of wine among the three of us, waddled home in pain and fell asleep at 8pm.
God bless America. :)
"Don't get that pink thing near my mouth!" said dad, as a hush settled over the table.
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