This past Saturday, I went to our annual early Thanksgiving dinner at John and Karen’s. This is the third year that they’ve hosted it, and it is one thing that I look forward to all year. Most of our friends from high school are there, and we all bring side dishes and dessert. John and the boys hang out in the garage, where they drink beer, deep fry the turkeys and talk about manly stuff. Karen and Kendra and the girls and I hang out in the kitchen, making sure everything else is getting cooked and also drinking delicious cocktails.
We eventually sit down to dinner, and no one is allowed to sit next to their significant other (that means Kendra and I sit far away from each other—HA!) and we dig into the piles and piles of food. It’s funny, that in three years, everyone has a specialty that the rest of the group looks forward to. Kendra makes the green bean casserole with the crispy onions on top, Kelly makes a spinach and cheese casserole, and I make sweet potatoes with a little bit of Jack Daniels and a lot of pecans and brown sugar on top. Karen sets a beautiful table, with the good china and pretty centerpieces, John picks out the wine, and Jim and Sean provide a large part of the hilarity. We eat ourselves silly, and then we sit around and laugh at each other’s stories. It’s so funny that even after knowing each other for 15 or so years, there are still stories that we haven’t heard. And then there are the stories that we tell over and over because they’re just that funny. Whatever it is, we laugh our asses off, making our stomachs hurt even more. We also made the decision this year that NEXT year is a pajama Thanksgiving – that way we’re more comfortable when we’re finished being gluttons. How sad is that? Pretty sad – and yet so very awesome.
The evening wouldn’t be complete without someone having some sort of “incident” – if by “someone” you mean “me”. Yes, I may or may not have singed off the hair on my right arm. This was after we totally overflowed the pot of potatoes, extinguishing the gas flame under the pot, so Kendra and I were moving the pot to another burner. I apparently thought it would be a good idea to turn on the burner FIRST and THEN move the pot, and hence, the burned off arm hair. I also couldn't seem to remember that the handles of the pot were hot. Neither could Kendra, so at least I wasn't alone there. I think part of the problem also could have been us laughing and trying (unsuccessfully) not to call attention to the kitchen tomfoolery.
At one point, I looked around the table and it was like one of those movie moments when the characters experience this moment of complete contentment as they realize how lucky and blessed they are to have such a wonderful group of friends.
And that? Is just one of the many things I'm unbelievably thankful for this year.
*EDIT* Since you seem to be a little bit curious about My Boy, go ahead and leave your questions in the comments section and I'll answer them in my next post. Because I may be a blogtator, but I'm a pretty benevolent blogtator...