Ellie! The Writer's calendar is still turned to October!
I know. She's behind, as usual.
She doesn't know that Thanksgiving is a week from today! Next week! The stores are all full of fixings and trimmings and those great big really good chickens. What are we going to do? She's going to miss the whole holiday. We'll be the only family in the world eating corned beef hash and eggs or something!
Well, for one thing, only Americans celebrate Thanksgiving on the third Thursday in November--
Don't get all encyclopedic on me! This is tragic! I wait all year for The Writer to turn the oven on and bake that great big really good chicken. If we miss it this year, we'll have to wait another 365 days!
When The Writer came back from Texas, she actually figured out that the holidays are coming. In fact, she thought Thanksgiving was today. So she went out and bought all the fixings and trimmings and the great big really good chick--I mean, turkey. See? There it is in the freezer.
Look at that great big really good chicken . . . come to mama. Hey, Ellie! Let's tell The Writer that today really is Thanksgiving and she'll cook the dinner and then she'll have to cook another big dinner next week!
Give The Writer a little credit and be thankful she's cooking at all.
That's right. Last night she undercooked the pasta because she was reading and The Writer's Husband had to fix a frozen spaghetti dinner--
Don't tell all the family secrets.