Norman Rockwell must have smoked crack.

I said I’d let my readers know about the extra margarine inside the turkey cavity.  I honestly didn’t notice a difference, so it didn’t hurt to stick it in there since it was contaminated by raw skin and couldn’t be used for anything else. The turkey, as well as everything else, was amazing. The company that was eating said turkey was not so amazing.

So I decided I’m not doing the cooking for Christmas. I had husband tell mother-in-law that they should figure out somewhere else to do Christmas for their family when she called to wish us a happy Thanksgiving, and I’m thinking I’ll just put out a cheese and cracker tray for when my mom comes with presents. I’ll throw some soup in the crockpot on Christmas Day, and I’ll make whatever dishes I have to make for my in laws’ get-together.

I can’t think of a single holiday this year that didn’t have some sort of drama associated with it and I don’t see the point in making all of that food if the thanks I get in return is physical fights about racist opinions at my table. If people can’t be in a jovial mood because of the food I cooked, I pretty much cooked it for nothing. I could have just made sandwiches if that were the case.

I know everyone says it’s not a family get-together without some kind of drama, but not like this. Arguing over sports teams? Fine. Dropping the bird on the floor because a kid ran into you? Fine. Grandma falling asleep in the mashed potatoes? Fine. Being pissed off that you didn’t get your grandfather’s watch and you see your delinquent cousin wearing it instead? Fine. This is just ridiculous, though. I’m honestly crushed.

Anyway, all of this was my way of getting around to saying I hope you have a happier Thanksgiving than I have so far. Much love to you all. I wish I could be with you, my secondary “family”, this weekend. I’ll just have to settle for being there in spirit.