The weekend before Thanksgiving. Kids coming home. Steel myself for them to be flying through the air. Laundry done, clean sheets on the beds. Plumber scheduled for Monday to fix a broken toilet. All that’s left is a clean floor, ham, and bananas.
Had to let that sink in for a minute. No, we do not stuff our turkey with ham and bananas prior to eating it off the floor. Sorry, far too much of a traditionalist in the Thanksgiving department for ground level dining. But the boy child likes breakfast burritos, which mean ham, along with potatoes, eggs, tortillas, cheese, and salsa. I’m apt to have the other stuff already in the refrigerator – ham requires special purchase. The daughter likes bananas. I have deep-seated problems with banana texture, that would prevent me from eating any even if I liked the taste. But buying fruit one doesn’t much like is the least of maternal sacrifices.
Truth be told, I never have thought of it all as sacrifice. It has always seemed to me that no matter how much I gave, I got more back. Like I got the good end of the deal.
Have a great day in the produce aisles everyone. Don’t you just love the brussels sprouts that are still on their stalks? Like little Martian plants have come to grace our tables.