Thanksgiving Day Nightmare
Where to start?
The night before Thanksgiving, I was boiling eggs to make devilled eggs, and the damn things wouldn't peel at all. it looked like shrapnel had hit my eggs, and they were all torn to shreds, and I didn't even have ONE SINGLE EGG that made the cut that I would be proud to serve to someone else. In a fit of I-Hate-cooking-for-other-people rage, I smooshed them all between my bare fingers, in the palm of my hands, right in the pan. Nothing like some smooshed up eggs with the shell and everything to put yer night into perspective. My DH thought I had snapped and I was about to go psycho. I think I had everything but the twitch totally mastered that night.
So I decided that we wouldn't be having devilled eggs for Thanksgiving dinner. And I warned my DH that the stupid eggs were probably just a prelude of the things to come. Somehow I knew it was an omen. *cues crappy 'Danger-is-cursed' music* Little did I know.
I got up at 9am the next morning (Thanksgiving) to find that my 20 pound Butterball Turkey was still frozen. Even though the damn thing had been in my fridge a week, it was still ice coated and rock hard. Soooo, I had to run cold water over it until it was thawed. No biggie, right? It's okay... just a small setback.
While I was rinsing the turkey off I noticed that the damn thing still had quills in it, and I had to pluck the damn thing in three places. This was a BUTTERBALL!! Supposed to be the best in the crop. Best I guess if you like to pluck yer bird before you eat it.
Three boxes of stuffing later, and about half an hour late, I had the bird in the oven at 10:30am. I called my SIL to tell her that it was only in 30 mins late, totally not my fault it wasn't plucked or thawed, and we should still be on schedule for everything ;)
We waited
and waited
and waited....
My MIL's husband calls me sometime around noon I think to remind me that since I have the turkey, I would also have the drippings (DUH) and he wants to know if I know how to make gravy. Now... I wouldn't be totally insulted, but this is coming from the man who married a woman who makes her gravy sans drippings and with bullion cubes and soup starter flakes instead. "Of course I am making the gravy. I told Amy I would." He doesn't seem very confident, but I know how to make gravy... and I do a damn good job at it... I wasn't gonna put up with crap from a man who I really didn't like in the first place. I told him I would bring gravy when I brought the turkey, and then I hung up the phone.
I was basting it every 30 mins, and it was starting to smell delicious by around 2pm. I was beginning to feel so confident that this was gonna be the most delicious turkey I had ever eaten.
My SIL calls at 2pm and wants to know how everything is going, and if the turkey is almost done. I assure her it should be done soon, as my whole house is filled with the aromatic goodness that a 20 pound turkey should provide.... it had to be close. She lets me know that she will be putting the potatoes on around 3pm then, so that we can all still eat at 4pm as scheduled. She assured me even if we were running a little behind schedule it would be okay, we didn't HAVE to eat right at 4pm.
I basted at 2:30pm and 3pm, and she calls again. Checking on the turkey. I was beginning to become slightly agitated as I told her we weren't gonna be there til about 4pm anyway, and I didn't know why she had to keep calling about the turkey. Anyway, I tell her it should be fine to start the potatoes, and if we were a little later than 4pm, it should all still be okay. She seemed fine with that, and then let me go.
During all of this phonetag and turkey basting, my disposable roaster (which I will never buy again) rips a hole in the bottom and about half of my precious drippings dripped right into the bottom of my oven. WONDERFUL. When I realized this, I pulled the turkey out as fast as I could and tried to salvage the rest of the drippings for gravy. I didn't want them giving me shit cuz I made crappy gravy cuz I didn't have any drippings.
At 330pm, I cut open the thigh, and I noticed the juices were still running pink, so I told my DH that I was gonna put it in for another 30 mins, as I didn't wanna eat undercooked pink turkey. He totally understood, and we went about our business.
They called again.
"What's the news on the turkey?"
"It's still running a bit pink, so she's putting it back in the oven for 30 more minutes," Says my DH to whoever was on the other end. I just sighed loudly. I could tell the people on the other end of the phone were getting agitated, cuz he was like "well, we really can't make it cook any faster, and she says it's not done yet." He talks for a bit longer, and then he hangs up the phone.
I am kinda annoyed by now... cuz they have called all day long about a turkey we said wouldn't even be there until about 4pm.
4pm rolls around, I pull the turkey out, and I cut open the other thigh. It's only a little bit pink, but it wasn't totally clear, so I told my DH I didn't know what to do? He says don't worry about it, just put it back in for 30 mins and everything would be fine. I knew it was so close to being done by the color of the juice, but I just wanted to make sure no one got sick. That would be great. I would be the woman who fed her in-laws the pink turkey that made them puke the rest of the night. I KNOW I would never live that down.
I had already made the gravy, which had left a lot to be desired since I had like NO Flavor in it. I had to make the little amount of drippings I actually salvaged last thru 9 people who would wanna drown everything on their plate in gravy.
The phone rings... AGAIN. Bet you can't guess who this is? I can tell you it WAS NOT Ed McMahon calling to tell me I won a million dollars.
Whoever is on the phone is bitching at my DH, and by now I am getting vocally pissed off, and I am swearing while I am stirring the gravy. A bunch of impatient asses. He tells them he doesn't know what to do, it's not done, and he doesn't wanna bring a pink turkey. They inform us that his mom and her husband have to leave town early, so they really need to eat NOW, and don't know why the turkey is taking so long. I was getting really pissed off. They hang up.
My DH and I start arguing over why they can't be patient, and why didn't anyone tell US that they had to go to work early and leave town early. The whole day my SIL had told me it would be okay if dinner was a little late, it didn't matter-- it was Thanksgiving afterall. I was so frustrated, as this wasn't my fault, and it was all falling in my lap that *I* was gonna be the one to ruin Thanksgiving.
They call back at 4:15
AGAIN!
By now, I am freaking pissed as hell and decided I would just take a pink turkey over there cuz they were so impatient and couldn't wait. They could eat undercooked turkey to their hearts content, but I wasn't gonna be responsible if they got sick from it.
And then they tell my DH the unthinkable.
It doesn't matter that the turkey isn't done, cuz they already ate. So don't worry about it anymore.
ALREADY ATE?!?!?!
WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I spent all freaking day stressed out and cooking for people I didn't even wanna cook for, making a turkey I babied all day long to make sure it would turn out wonderfully delicious for the people I didn't wanna cook for in the first place... and then the freaking ungrateful bastards impatiently eat Chicken and Noodles for Thanksgiving Dinner before half the dinner guests have arrived?!?!
I promptly started SCREAMING in the background at whoever was on the phone. I couldn't believe they insulted me like that, acting like the food I was cooking wasn't even worth the wait for.
I plated that stupid turkey up, but not before I dropped a stoneware plate on the floor just so it could slice the crap outta my foot 2 seconds after it hit the linoleum. It hurt like hell, but I was soley motivated my hate now, and I ddin't even care. I couldn't take time to bandage my foot... my Inlaws needed their food NOW. I put the gravy in a damn bowl, and told my DH they would be welcome to eat the food I slaved over all day for, but I would be DAMNED if I was eating pink turkey just to get sick from it. I was gonna drop it all off to them, and then I would promptly be coming home, because I wasn't about to sit with someone so ungrateful for the food I just cooked all day.
He was trying to diffuse the situation by trying to reason with whoever was on the other line. I had headed for the truck with Lexie in tow, and I put the gravy down and buckled her in. I came back in the house to grab the turkey and remind him for people who are so freaking impatient to eat they sure were wasting a lot of time on the phone with him. I told him he had 5 mins to get in the truck, or I would be leaving without him. I grabbed the turkey and headed outside.
I was sitting in the drivers seat adjusting everything for my short body, figuring out how I was gonna balance the turkey and the gravy, all while driving for 15 mins., when my DH came to the drivers side door.
I barked at him, "What are you doing. Get in the damn truck. They need to eat now!!"
He says, "Baby, come back inside. We will put the bird back in the oven, and we will just have dinner by ourselves. I told them all to go to hell, and that we weren't coming over."
I started crying.
How dare they ruin my Thanksgiving. And at the same time, How blessed am I to have such a wonderful husband. I could have married him all over again right there. It wouldn't have even matter that I had turkey juice all over my hands when he slipped on the ring again.
We took the food back inside, and he told me everything that was said on the phone while we made potatoes and rolls, and heated up corn.
We then ate a peaceful, non stressful dinner BY OURSELVES. I think I even managed a smile.
and you know what? It was WONDERFULLY DELICIOUS... even if the gravy did suck.
I told a friend online, that occasionaly ya have to have really crappy Thanksgivings so that you can ultimately appreciate the good ones even more.
The night before Thanksgiving, I was boiling eggs to make devilled eggs, and the damn things wouldn't peel at all. it looked like shrapnel had hit my eggs, and they were all torn to shreds, and I didn't even have ONE SINGLE EGG that made the cut that I would be proud to serve to someone else. In a fit of I-Hate-cooking-for-other-people rage, I smooshed them all between my bare fingers, in the palm of my hands, right in the pan. Nothing like some smooshed up eggs with the shell and everything to put yer night into perspective. My DH thought I had snapped and I was about to go psycho. I think I had everything but the twitch totally mastered that night.
So I decided that we wouldn't be having devilled eggs for Thanksgiving dinner. And I warned my DH that the stupid eggs were probably just a prelude of the things to come. Somehow I knew it was an omen. *cues crappy 'Danger-is-cursed' music* Little did I know.
I got up at 9am the next morning (Thanksgiving) to find that my 20 pound Butterball Turkey was still frozen. Even though the damn thing had been in my fridge a week, it was still ice coated and rock hard. Soooo, I had to run cold water over it until it was thawed. No biggie, right? It's okay... just a small setback.
While I was rinsing the turkey off I noticed that the damn thing still had quills in it, and I had to pluck the damn thing in three places. This was a BUTTERBALL!! Supposed to be the best in the crop. Best I guess if you like to pluck yer bird before you eat it.
Three boxes of stuffing later, and about half an hour late, I had the bird in the oven at 10:30am. I called my SIL to tell her that it was only in 30 mins late, totally not my fault it wasn't plucked or thawed, and we should still be on schedule for everything ;)
We waited
and waited
and waited....
My MIL's husband calls me sometime around noon I think to remind me that since I have the turkey, I would also have the drippings (DUH) and he wants to know if I know how to make gravy. Now... I wouldn't be totally insulted, but this is coming from the man who married a woman who makes her gravy sans drippings and with bullion cubes and soup starter flakes instead. "Of course I am making the gravy. I told Amy I would." He doesn't seem very confident, but I know how to make gravy... and I do a damn good job at it... I wasn't gonna put up with crap from a man who I really didn't like in the first place. I told him I would bring gravy when I brought the turkey, and then I hung up the phone.
I was basting it every 30 mins, and it was starting to smell delicious by around 2pm. I was beginning to feel so confident that this was gonna be the most delicious turkey I had ever eaten.
My SIL calls at 2pm and wants to know how everything is going, and if the turkey is almost done. I assure her it should be done soon, as my whole house is filled with the aromatic goodness that a 20 pound turkey should provide.... it had to be close. She lets me know that she will be putting the potatoes on around 3pm then, so that we can all still eat at 4pm as scheduled. She assured me even if we were running a little behind schedule it would be okay, we didn't HAVE to eat right at 4pm.
I basted at 2:30pm and 3pm, and she calls again. Checking on the turkey. I was beginning to become slightly agitated as I told her we weren't gonna be there til about 4pm anyway, and I didn't know why she had to keep calling about the turkey. Anyway, I tell her it should be fine to start the potatoes, and if we were a little later than 4pm, it should all still be okay. She seemed fine with that, and then let me go.
During all of this phonetag and turkey basting, my disposable roaster (which I will never buy again) rips a hole in the bottom and about half of my precious drippings dripped right into the bottom of my oven. WONDERFUL. When I realized this, I pulled the turkey out as fast as I could and tried to salvage the rest of the drippings for gravy. I didn't want them giving me shit cuz I made crappy gravy cuz I didn't have any drippings.
At 330pm, I cut open the thigh, and I noticed the juices were still running pink, so I told my DH that I was gonna put it in for another 30 mins, as I didn't wanna eat undercooked pink turkey. He totally understood, and we went about our business.
They called again.
"What's the news on the turkey?"
"It's still running a bit pink, so she's putting it back in the oven for 30 more minutes," Says my DH to whoever was on the other end. I just sighed loudly. I could tell the people on the other end of the phone were getting agitated, cuz he was like "well, we really can't make it cook any faster, and she says it's not done yet." He talks for a bit longer, and then he hangs up the phone.
I am kinda annoyed by now... cuz they have called all day long about a turkey we said wouldn't even be there until about 4pm.
4pm rolls around, I pull the turkey out, and I cut open the other thigh. It's only a little bit pink, but it wasn't totally clear, so I told my DH I didn't know what to do? He says don't worry about it, just put it back in for 30 mins and everything would be fine. I knew it was so close to being done by the color of the juice, but I just wanted to make sure no one got sick. That would be great. I would be the woman who fed her in-laws the pink turkey that made them puke the rest of the night. I KNOW I would never live that down.
I had already made the gravy, which had left a lot to be desired since I had like NO Flavor in it. I had to make the little amount of drippings I actually salvaged last thru 9 people who would wanna drown everything on their plate in gravy.
The phone rings... AGAIN. Bet you can't guess who this is? I can tell you it WAS NOT Ed McMahon calling to tell me I won a million dollars.
Whoever is on the phone is bitching at my DH, and by now I am getting vocally pissed off, and I am swearing while I am stirring the gravy. A bunch of impatient asses. He tells them he doesn't know what to do, it's not done, and he doesn't wanna bring a pink turkey. They inform us that his mom and her husband have to leave town early, so they really need to eat NOW, and don't know why the turkey is taking so long. I was getting really pissed off. They hang up.
My DH and I start arguing over why they can't be patient, and why didn't anyone tell US that they had to go to work early and leave town early. The whole day my SIL had told me it would be okay if dinner was a little late, it didn't matter-- it was Thanksgiving afterall. I was so frustrated, as this wasn't my fault, and it was all falling in my lap that *I* was gonna be the one to ruin Thanksgiving.
They call back at 4:15
AGAIN!
By now, I am freaking pissed as hell and decided I would just take a pink turkey over there cuz they were so impatient and couldn't wait. They could eat undercooked turkey to their hearts content, but I wasn't gonna be responsible if they got sick from it.
And then they tell my DH the unthinkable.
It doesn't matter that the turkey isn't done, cuz they already ate. So don't worry about it anymore.
ALREADY ATE?!?!?!
WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I spent all freaking day stressed out and cooking for people I didn't even wanna cook for, making a turkey I babied all day long to make sure it would turn out wonderfully delicious for the people I didn't wanna cook for in the first place... and then the freaking ungrateful bastards impatiently eat Chicken and Noodles for Thanksgiving Dinner before half the dinner guests have arrived?!?!
I promptly started SCREAMING in the background at whoever was on the phone. I couldn't believe they insulted me like that, acting like the food I was cooking wasn't even worth the wait for.
I plated that stupid turkey up, but not before I dropped a stoneware plate on the floor just so it could slice the crap outta my foot 2 seconds after it hit the linoleum. It hurt like hell, but I was soley motivated my hate now, and I ddin't even care. I couldn't take time to bandage my foot... my Inlaws needed their food NOW. I put the gravy in a damn bowl, and told my DH they would be welcome to eat the food I slaved over all day for, but I would be DAMNED if I was eating pink turkey just to get sick from it. I was gonna drop it all off to them, and then I would promptly be coming home, because I wasn't about to sit with someone so ungrateful for the food I just cooked all day.
He was trying to diffuse the situation by trying to reason with whoever was on the other line. I had headed for the truck with Lexie in tow, and I put the gravy down and buckled her in. I came back in the house to grab the turkey and remind him for people who are so freaking impatient to eat they sure were wasting a lot of time on the phone with him. I told him he had 5 mins to get in the truck, or I would be leaving without him. I grabbed the turkey and headed outside.
I was sitting in the drivers seat adjusting everything for my short body, figuring out how I was gonna balance the turkey and the gravy, all while driving for 15 mins., when my DH came to the drivers side door.
I barked at him, "What are you doing. Get in the damn truck. They need to eat now!!"
He says, "Baby, come back inside. We will put the bird back in the oven, and we will just have dinner by ourselves. I told them all to go to hell, and that we weren't coming over."
I started crying.
How dare they ruin my Thanksgiving. And at the same time, How blessed am I to have such a wonderful husband. I could have married him all over again right there. It wouldn't have even matter that I had turkey juice all over my hands when he slipped on the ring again.
We took the food back inside, and he told me everything that was said on the phone while we made potatoes and rolls, and heated up corn.
We then ate a peaceful, non stressful dinner BY OURSELVES. I think I even managed a smile.
and you know what? It was WONDERFULLY DELICIOUS... even if the gravy did suck.
I told a friend online, that occasionaly ya have to have really crappy Thanksgivings so that you can ultimately appreciate the good ones even more.
posted by Danger @ 5:35 PM
3 Comments:
At 6:57 AM,
Anonymous said…
Fuck em. Oh and I have about 7 bags of dinner rolls here that I cannot use...want em? LMAO!
At 12:20 PM,
Mommy said…
Ohhhh I would have taken your moist bird and stuck it on the old dry birds head for putting you through that. At least you had a much better time at home.
At 2:04 PM,
Anonymous said…
Ack, well I'm glad that you were able to enjoy dinner with your hubby and family and not have to go put up with anymore of their shit eh.
Their loss ;)
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