I'm spending this Thanksgiving in Chicago, with the boyfriend's family.
This is a good thing - a truly amazing thing, really. Their version of celebrating a holiday involves waking up whenever, drinking mimosas with breakfast and assorted beer and wine all day long, and eating well...and doing nothing else, if you don't want to. Moreover, bf's mom doesn't even really allow you to do much - sort of a 'my kitchen, i've got a plan' type - so the worst I'm in for is setting the table and cleaning up after the awesome meals she makes us.
Heavenly.
Except for one crucial factor: I have no Thanksgiving leftovers. Sure, they'll save the extra turkey etc., and I might have a sandwich on Friday, maybe even take one with me on the plane home Saturday, but that will be it.
No days upon days of turkey, no sweet potatoes to pick at whenever I feel like it, no pie that I can eat, sliver by sliver, until what I think has been "really nothing" is in fact a quarter of a pie's worth of nibbles.
And worse yet, for the day that I will be there, in close contact with these leftovers, I won't be able to just dive in and take whatever I want. At my house, and my mom's house, I might be known to grab a little shred of turkey, salt it, eat it, and walk away, until half an hour later when I want to break off a little bite of stuffing. At the boyfriend's parents' house, I can't just rummage and graze on their fridge like I'm in some blood-sugar version of "Speed."
Sigh. I'll still be thankful, but not AS thankful as I would be with a loaf of white bread and a turkey breast waiting for me when I get back from Chicago...
-Posted by Jilly
Thursday, November 26, 2009
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