Looking for the Thankful and Finding It

Well, we made it. Not without two trips to the doctor’s office, but without any major catastrophic or debilitating disease or maiming. As of today we again join the ranks of the health insured. Just another thing on the long list of things to be thankful for.

Speaking of thankfulness, this Thanksgiving Day was not as remarkable as Easter when my husband decided to eat cat food. There were, however, a few memorable moments, as is practically unavoidable when my family is together in the same space.

Firstly, my poor mother, while frenetically running around the kitchen trying to make sure that everything stayed hot, accidentally dumped the turkey drippings that were intended for gravy down the drain whilst she skimmed the fat from the pan. This was in large part due to the fact that she was wanted on the phone. Multi-tasking is not one of her strong points.

Secondly, was the moment when my cold-ridden son sneezed all over the side of his Granddad’s face during prayer. It was a pretty wet and slimy sneeze as most of his sneezes are when the boogies of doom are attacking his body. All told, it didn’t seem to bother Granddad too much; his appetite was just as hearty as everybody else’s once he cleansed his face of it.

Unfortunately for me, I had an appointment at the dentist a few days before the holiday. Appointments at the dentist are always unfortunate. Who wants to spend large sums of money so that a dentist or dental hygienist can stretch one’s mouth into shapes it is not supposed to make and use sharp pointy metal sticks to scrape the enamel right off of one’s tooth. And then be forced to listen to a lecture on brushing gently. Right. But the professional is allowed to abrade the payee’s teeth with a piece of metal that could have been a rusty nail in another life.

When I visit the dentist, especially in the winter months, all the stretching, pulling, and flossing tend to make the corners of my mouth chap and ultimately split open. By the time the day for eating large mounds of food rolled around my lip was in pretty bad shape. Especially in the right corner region.

Every time I opened my mouth to put something yummy into it, the lip emitted a soundless plea (which I ignored) and tugged, pulled, and cracked open again. It was a tad uncomfortable. But all of this reminded me of something else that I am thankful for: chapstick. If one persists on looking for the bright side it can almost always be found.

All I Want for Christmas is to Lose the Ten Pounds I Gained on Thanksgiving

I believe I am losing my endurance when it comes to marathon eating. On Thanksgiving Day I squeeze a small portion of everything onto my dinner plate. This may not sound like a whole ton of food, but one must consider the bounty of an average Thanksgiving in the home of my parents.

Our table consists of traditional items like turkey, bread, homemade cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and stuffing; in addition there is also broccoli with cheese sauce, creamed pearl onions, green beans, corn, glazed carrots and sweet potatoes. Just in case we feel the need to whet our appetites stuffed mushrooms, fig and goat cheese spread, and celery with pimento cream cheese are also available for sampling along with a port wine cheese ball.

All of this for my immediate family of six, my husband and our two babies. Whew! My grandparents join us for dessert: pumpkin and apple pies supplemented this year with cutout butter cookies and iced pumpkin cake.

So, there I am with all of my food touching: the cranberry sauce atop my turkey and the cheese sauce flowing over into my sweet potatoes. When I was younger I found myself able to eat multiple helping of everything throughout the day, but now I’m lucky if I can eat dessert and still manage to be breathing at the end of the night. We customarily end the holiday by playing a game together. This probably started as an attempt to burn some calories by means of good old-fashioned belly laughter.

My prayer this Thanksgiving is that I won’t ever find myself nine months pregnant on this holiday of over-eating because by that time in a pregnancy the mommy is reduced to portions resembling a tablespoon in size as a result of the baby taking up every centimeter of available space and pushing mommy’s stomach up into her throat. Every year in my delirium I vow that I shall not eat again until the following Thanksgiving Day. I always seem to forget that by lunch time on Friday when I attempt to recreate my dinner plate with leftovers.