This year I
have doomed my family am hosting Thanksgiving at my house. I love a good party, however I do not have experience with, nor do I like the prospect of, disemboweling foul of any kind, so this should be interesting.
To put it nicely, I am not the biggest fan of my mother’s boyfriend. The myriad of reasons I will not get into here because I am fairly certain my mother is the only one who reads this anyway, so lets just leave it be for now. I figured that having all of my family over to my house and voluntarily getting elbows deep in turkey guts gave me the right to staunchly defend the sign I placed on my
clubhouse door, scrawled in crayon no less, ‘no boys allowed, except this short list that doesn’t include my mom’s boyfriend’. (I figured excluding the Mister in our Thanksgiving festivities might put a chink in our marital armor, so he just made the cut.)
Yesterday afternoon I was high on my righteousness when my mom called and asked if I was sure the veritable ‘he’ couldn’t come with her. I could tell she was near tears as she pleaded her case, but I am ashamed to say I passed on the opportunity to repay her kindness in putting up with all of my obnoxious choices in men.
I told my mom I had to think about it and would let her know. My curt reply might not have meant much to my mother, but as I hung up I was ashamed with myself. How am I supposed to teach my own daughter to accept others when I walk into the other room and make my mom to beg me to be accepting of her choices? How is it that I could turn a family holiday into a soap box from which I call down my own mother, while expecting my own daughter to have respect for me? Damn babies, making you want to be a better you.
I called my mother that evening, I had wanted to tell her in an angry and resigned voice that I would set a place for her boyfriend if she really thought it was best for everyone that he joined us. The next morning, when I finally did talk to her, I had softened and extended the invitation in a more mild, and much more respectful manner than previously intended. I couldn’t help making it clear that it was only because I love her, and wanted to show that I have respect for her that I am putting together another place setting down. So, we have an even 12 who will be gathered around our table for tomorrow’s festivities because I am thankful for the family I have, and sometimes being thankful is about being humbled.
My first Turkey Day foray is teaching me why a calling to attend culinary school never came, but it is perhaps the humbling lesson in thankfulness and acceptance I had to embody for my daughter that I need to carry with me through the rest of the year.