*burrrrrrrrrp*

*covers mouth*

Scuse me.

It's been a long couple of days of eating.

So, since you last saw Squish's crown, the week has gone like this...

Wednesday-- clean kitchen. Cook for Thanksgiving.

Thursday-- start with the following conversation with Chicken on text:

Chicken: So, you're coming to get us so we can carpool to Aunt Teresa's, right?

Me: Uh...

Chicken: I don't remember how to get there.

Me: Okay. What are you bringing for food?

Chicken: Uh...

Me: *racks brains* No, no, I have enough food to justify bringing seven grownup eaters to the family gathering.

Chicken: Seven? How are we seven?

Me: We are picking you guys up on the way to get Grandma Alexa in Sacramento before we go to Ophir. (For those who know the area, we are talking about a forty mile loop, one way, and then we have to do it reverse, the other way.)

Chicken: Oh... okay. We'll be ready!

Me: *hangs up*  BATTLE STATIONS, EVERYONE, WE ARE LEAVING IN HALF-AN-HOUR, OPERATION FAMILY THANKSGIVING IS A GO! REPEAT, A GO!

But the dinner-held at my Aunt Teresa's--was really lovely, and for once, we didn't have to run away to go to another dinner.

Friday: My friend Berry Jello and her kids came over to our house to help us clean. And we cleaned. I mean, the house isn't GREAT, but the kids are like, "We haven't seen this much improvement since sixth grade!"

Berry Jello is a saint and I haven't knitted nearly enough for her.

That will change.

Saturday: Sent Mate out to store in early morning for a pan to put the turkey in. Mate sent me back this picture, and brought home a cookie sheet.

Berry Jello and her kids and my older kids and Chicken's friend (Guest Dog Gibbs's mom) all come over and I cook and cook and cook. I ask Mate to come help me with the turkey and he grabs two knives, pirate style, while I try to grab the dripping bag so we can save the drippings for the pot. The cookie sheet is NOT deep enough for the drippings, the bag MUST be saved, we are NOWHERE NEAR THE SINK.

And the following words are uttered:

ABORT ABORT ABORT! The turkey has broken, repeat, THE TURKEY HAS BROKEN! Somebody get us a pan! OMG EVERY PAN IN THE HOUSE IS DIRTY! THE TURKEY HAS BROKEN! THE TURKEY HAS BROKEN!

We eventually found a pan, while the double skewered turkey dripped a combination of root beer, turkey drippings, dressing, and butter on the quickly failing cookie sheet. The turkey wasn't just falling off the bones, folks, the bones were falling off the turkey.

Hey-- it was the OPPOSITE of the turkey from the National Lampoon.

I try to clean up at the end, but my back decides it's done for the weekend and I sit while Mate serves me and then cleans up.

We watch MST3K. It's hilarious.

Everybody eats pie and waddles home and I am happy.

LATESGIVING ACHIEVED!

Sunday: Mate wakes up early to bake a strudel--which is apparently a pie with a chewy crust. (I'll be honest. I prefer pie. But he was so proud of his strudel!)  Some of the strudel filling leaked out onto the burner from the cookie sheet. A friend of the family told Mate, "This is great! How'd you get the crust to taste smoked?"

"Well, first you use the wrong kind of pan..."

And anyway-- we took the strudel to my parents place and had Brunchgiving, which was nice. We missed them for the holiday.

Maybe next time, I'll just cook once!