An Email from a Friend this morning :-)

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm
telling you in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart
won't be coming, I've made a few small changes: Our sidewalk will not
be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it
was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch
sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated
with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make.
Instead, I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having
them track n colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was
their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy
china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match
and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will
refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa
napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that
I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration
hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me
it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you
while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every nice
comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey
hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made by me
at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to
cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of
tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a
recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds
suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them.
They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the
start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional
method. We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When
the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where
you like. In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at
a separate table. In a separate room.

Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey
in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be
happening at our dinner. For sanity safety reasons, the turkey will be
carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private", meaning: Do not,
under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send
small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an
electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will
eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners (and
any males present) that "passing the rolls" is not a football play.
Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty
bread. Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the
meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will
refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a
young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese
Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a
choice between 12 different scrumptious homemade desserts, we will be
serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream,
small fingerprints, and broken crust. You will still have a choice;
you may take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She
probably won't come next year either. I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving,
author unknown