The Holidays are such a busy time a year, aren't they folks? Ahh, yes. A chorus of ladies yelling out "Yes! Oh my gosh I am going to lose my freaking mind! There's too much to do!" as they march off to the grocery/department/black friday store with detailed, meticulous lists in hand, soft leather handbags slung over their shoulders, sensible flats covering tired Mama feet, a messy ponytail swinging behind them.
Where are the guys? I didn't hear any of them call out. Hello? (Adele voice), "Can you hear me?"
Because, though I love me the male persuasion, holidays are significantly less harried for their kind.
And so, I bring you the Thanksgiving Brain, Women Vs Men:
Woman Brain on Thanksgiving:
"Oh God. It's a week before Thanksgiving. After work I'm going to need to peruse Pinterest for seven hours and start planning ridiculously complex side dishes and fondant shapes so as to go down in history and having the greatest Thanksgiving spread of all time, even in comparison with whatever they're having at the White House. Okay. The turkey. Should I bake it like Mom did? Or do I brine? What is brine, anyway? Okay. Check out "brine" on Pinterest. Or should I fry it? Nah, that seems so 2002. I still have oil burns on my elbow from THAT Thanksgiving. Brining is it. How many people are coming? Will Aunt Mabel and Uncle Lou actually make the trip from Albuquerque? They probably shouldn't drive on account of their cataracts. Or did they have those surgically removed this year? Or last year? I swear I saw it in cousin Arlene's super obnoxious and braggy Christmas letter. So if THEY come, (hopefully Arlene won't) then that will make (counting on hands) 13-14-oh no Arlene and Willy would be 16. Fingers crossed they're too busy making more enthralling YouTube videos of their cats to make the trip.
So I'll make the list tomorrow after Pinteresting. Hey, did my kids break so many bowls this year that I only have a matching set for 9? Who has place settings for NINE? I'm going to need to research dishes. I can't have mismatched dishes. It would probably make Arlene's letter this year "We drove all that way and our host served us on mismatched plates. I also noted spots on the utensils and the decor left something to be desired. We won't be back", like a restaurant review on Yelp.
Damn Arlene. Plus, I think she voted for _________________. Don't even get me started.
Which grocery stores have the best prices on turkey? Last year I was screwed going to that one store, they didn't even have store brand turkeys! I paid $42.00 for a dead bird.
Now there's only two days left. I've been to six different stores in the last two days just to round out this list. And I STILL forgot the butter. Butter! It's like, a STAPLE! Well, after I make dinner tonight I'll head BACK out to the store. I'm sure it will be pleasant 48 hours prior to Thanksgiving. Oh, I need a decent tablecloth now, since the cute patterned one that matched the throw pillows now has a gigantic RED Crystal Light stain thanks to my youngest. I somehow need to sleep in between preparations, getting the house cleaned (I'll enlist my husband for that one. I'll even promise late night favors for a job well done) and working. Do the kids even have school this week? I have no idea. Oh! The Thanksgiving pageant. She's going to need me to find a pilgrim costume between now and tomorrow but HALLOWEEN IS ALREADY OVER. Where in all hell do I find a pilgrim costume now? I'd better thaw the turkey tonight so I can brine it 24 hours. Rosemary. I NEED ROSEMARY for the brine. Why did I decide to brine, again? Oh, here's a text from Arlene. "We're happy to say we'll be making the trip tomorrow with Mom and Dad. Looking forward to that fried turkey you're famous for!"
YOU'RE GOING TO EAT BRINED TURKEY ARLENE AND YOU'RE GOING TO LIKE IT OR CHOKE ON IT. PUT THAT IN YOUR LETTER.
Instead, I reply, "It will be a wonderful time. Please drive carefully" (in the other direction) comes my thought. At 1am, I'll be able to pass out. Can't wait.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow. Today after work I'll boil the brine, cool it off, put the turkey in the ice bath, toast the bread, saute the celery and onions, finish the dressing, peel the potatoes, get the cranberries boiling, set the table, make sure the bathroom is stocked with the pretty towels and the Bath & Body Works hand soap, head to the Thanksgiving program and come home to wish for grim death.
Man Brain on Thanksgiving:
"Hey, what time are we eating tomorrow?"