Thanksgiving is fast approaching and that leads ones thoughts to Christmas. Each year on Boxing day, I vow that next year will be different. I seem to be organized about everything else in life, but when it comes to holidays everything goes out the window. Thanksgiving is a week away and I still do not have a turkey in my deep freeze. I have mental menu planned but have not moved beyond that. We have a small family and do not need a large bird but each year I wait until the very end and get stuck with this enormous turkey that would feed twenty people. Because I am paranoid about waste, this means my family is subjected to turkey stew, turkey pot pie, turkey quesadillas, turkey stir frys and any other concoction that I can possibly think of.
I am no better when it comes to Christmas shopping. One year I ended up hip checking a woman for the last power ranger. I had promised it to my nephew and it came down to her or me. I really don’t care if there is a present under the tree for me, I simply want to see the people I love smile. I could have picked up the damn thing in September without a fuss…but oh no, heaven forbid I ever be prepared for the holidays.
One Christmas about 8 years ago, I thought I had finally gotten my shit together. It was Christmas eve, the unhusband and I were relaxing, the house was perfectly decorated and even spotlessly clean. This year Christmas was to be at our house for the first time and I was sitting on my couch proud of the fact that I had actually gotten my shit together. I could not shake this nagging feeling that something was missing though. I walked around and kept double checking until it dawned on me like a flash…I HAD NO TURKEY. There it was 4:30 in the afternoon on Christmas eve, I was expecting a house full of people and had nothing to feed them. We rushed out to Zehrs where I begged and pleaded for them to let us in. The store was closing and the employees quite understandably wanted to start their own holiday. I shamelessly displayed my pregnant stomach and began to cry. Fortunately, they let us in and it was a disaster barely averted.
Even as I am writing this, I making a mental promise to myself that one way or another I will get Thanksgiving and Christmas perfect. We always laugh at the mess I manage to create and then snuggle and watch some holiday movie where a fictional wife and mother gets it perfect. To be honest, I am convinced that holidays only go perfect in the media. For me it’s either the dog making off with the unrguarded dark meat or gravy that is so salty that it could compete with the dead sea.
Now that I have shared with you a few of my holiday disasters, feel free to share some of yours in the comment section. That means you way in the back, who forgot to take the neck out the bird before cooking it; after all, what would a holiday be without a little bit of disaster and a whole lot of love.