Shhh, Mom's Sleeping

”Don’t worry about a thing,” I told Sandi when she returned from work on Thanksgiving morning. “Go to sleep. The boys and I will make Thanksgiving dinner for you.”

She flashed a grateful smile and went to bed. I turned to James and Ian.

“We need to keep quiet,” I told them. “I need your help making our Thanksgiving dinner. Can you help?”

I went over my mental checklist. Everything was ready, and all we needed to do was some minor cooking. Piece of cake.

I put the turkey in the oven and set the boys at their tasks. Instead of a little stock, Ian poured in a whole quart, dissolving our dressing into a gelatinous mass. James poured most of the salad into a bowl. I set the rolls to rise and helped James clean up the rest of the salad. I set James to sorting the cranberries and helped Ian drain off the excess stock.

“OK, guys, let’s take a break.” The turkey was cooking, the rolls were rising and everything was coming together. I sat down for some football. The first quarter had barely started.

I woke up halfway through the fourth quarter in a panic. The rolls had risen and collapsed. The turkey was so overcooked the drumsticks were falling off and it wasn’t even browned. James poured the cranberries into the pan, getting a full third in. The cranberry syrup had caramelized. Puddles of stock lay on the top of the dressing.

The cooking shows made it look so easy. Finally, I had dinner on the table and we went to wake up Mom.

“Mom, we made dinner,” James said proudly.

“Yeah,” Ian said, “It was easy.”

Sandi looked at this travesty of a holiday meal.

“It looks wonderful,” she said, with a sincere smile.

William Bartlett lives in Belton with his family.