This year I was supposed to do Thanksgiving for my husband’s family. My sister-in-law ,who usually hosts Thanksgiving dinner, is a nurse and was scheduled to work that day.
With a kitchen half way through a renovation and only one tiny little oven. I had wondered aloud if anyone would mind just having cold turkey sandwiches. There is not much oven cooking that can be going on, at least not the sort that holidays usually require. Let’s be honest here, cooking is not my strong point anyway. I don’t particularly enjoy it. Throw a wrench in the works and something that is merely tolerable becomes an outright nightmare.

I was panicked concerned at first. The perfectionist in me likes things to be perfect or else not done at all. When I told my husband this he had said, “Well, my parents really just want to visit and see the kids. And it’s not like we are inviting them over to roast weenies over a bonfire.” (As an aside, how much fun and no stress would that be? Then I could be thankful that I didn’t have to cook.)

My husband was right. I began to embrace the idea of a different sort of Thanksgiving, planning a menu of things that I could prepare in advance, soup I could make in the crockpot, veggies I could steam on the stove top.

My sister-in-law called this morning to tell me that she is working the early shift on Thanksgiving and will be home in time to host the dinner at her house and would I mind if she took the holiday dinner back.

Twist my arm. Within 30 seconds I assured I would not mind in the least and signed up to bring salad. And man, am I thankful.