‘Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house, not one of us had a second to chill-out on the couch.
With our stomachs all grumbling fasting for the feast, my family began preparing for 24 people at least.
Thanksgiving’s a holiday of family football and food, preparation needed to be perfect to make sure nothing killed the mood.
We started by lugging the furniture up and down stairs, as my mom pictured the perfect set-up, question her if you dare…
My sisters spent hours setting the table just so. With our decorations and assortment of plates, we were ready to go.
Mom and I spent the most time in the kitchen, keeping a watchful eye on my sisters, preventing them from ditching.
The potatoes were to be peeled, the carrots to be sliced, and we sat for hours as the rest of the vegetables were diced.
The smell of good food swarmed the air, it suddenly became too much for my ravenous stomach to bare.
Up on the stove Mom had sauces and things cooking. I couldn’t help myself, so I reached in with a spoon when Mom wasn’t looking.
The stuffing was done and the potatoes ready to mash, alas we brought out the turkey to prepare for the bash.
We braised it and glazed it with flavors so good, and let it sit overnight like any good chef would.
The pies were all baked and sat in a row, I knew that the pumpkin would be the first one to go.
We peered around the house and most things were set. I looked at my mom and exclaimed, “It should be the best Thanksgiving dinner yet.”