I am hung over. My belt is hung over is what I really mean. What is a thanksgiving dinner without a (belt) hangover anyway? The table was turned last night (no pun intended) as the adult table became the kids table. We four adults were doubly outnumbered by more than twice as many kids, by the time the young significant others made their way to the house.
This is one bajillion times better than the former life thanksgiving dinners where the ex'es matriarachical dominated family slumped at the table after cooking with wine all day, telling the same old predictable stories as if we hadn't already heard them a bajillion times before. I swear, someone's life stopped at forty and there just were no new stories after that. Dinner was not officially over until someone left the table crying or not speaking to someone else. At least three people had to be personally insulted (I was always one of the three) and some dish on the table had to be totally inedible (probably a result of the aforementioned cooking with booze pattern).
By contrast, last night, there was no table drama. No inedible dishes. All the stories were new. The kids, all in their twenties, were sharing lots of new old stories about fake I.D.s, everclear experiences, walks of shame (seeing them, not doing them of course) and freakin' websites.
My son will get to go to the aforementioned drama filled turkey dinner at the ex family's house tonight. For that I am infinitely sorry. Sorry that he has to still do that. Thankful that I don't.
Dinner last night included all the usual suspects (turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, fresh cranberry relish) and some new ones: ambrosia salad and balsamic roasted sweet potatoes. All served on the good china, polished silver and family crystal.
It brought relief to my soul as I observed my son engaged in the conversations with both generations at the table. He's trying something new with his job with the University's radio station: wine and music pairings. His first foray into this was so well received that it looks like he has his first winery sponsor. That's my boy!
I am digging lazing around in bed, working on my first eggnog latte (failed latte art this morning I'm afraid), and putting off heading out into the world today as long as possible. Sweet leftovers and hangovers to all!
This is one bajillion times better than the former life thanksgiving dinners where the ex'es matriarachical dominated family slumped at the table after cooking with wine all day, telling the same old predictable stories as if we hadn't already heard them a bajillion times before. I swear, someone's life stopped at forty and there just were no new stories after that. Dinner was not officially over until someone left the table crying or not speaking to someone else. At least three people had to be personally insulted (I was always one of the three) and some dish on the table had to be totally inedible (probably a result of the aforementioned cooking with booze pattern).
By contrast, last night, there was no table drama. No inedible dishes. All the stories were new. The kids, all in their twenties, were sharing lots of new old stories about fake I.D.s, everclear experiences, walks of shame (seeing them, not doing them of course) and freakin' websites.
My son will get to go to the aforementioned drama filled turkey dinner at the ex family's house tonight. For that I am infinitely sorry. Sorry that he has to still do that. Thankful that I don't.
Dinner last night included all the usual suspects (turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, fresh cranberry relish) and some new ones: ambrosia salad and balsamic roasted sweet potatoes. All served on the good china, polished silver and family crystal.
It brought relief to my soul as I observed my son engaged in the conversations with both generations at the table. He's trying something new with his job with the University's radio station: wine and music pairings. His first foray into this was so well received that it looks like he has his first winery sponsor. That's my boy!
I am digging lazing around in bed, working on my first eggnog latte (failed latte art this morning I'm afraid), and putting off heading out into the world today as long as possible. Sweet leftovers and hangovers to all!
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