Disclaimer: I love my Mother In Law. I really do. She does not know that I blog. In the event that she finds my neck of the woods in this little space of the Internet, pray for me.
My husband is a half-breed.
American and Canadian.
My Mother In Law is American. A very very proud American whose home is decked out in American paraphernalia just so us Canadians are reminded that she is indeed an American. She even sports sweaters with puffy plastic appliques of the American flag.
She also has an American mullet.
Oh shush…name a Canadian with a mullet.
Ok, we have mullets too. We like to call them hockey haircuts so it’s kind of acceptable.
Anyways, my Mother In Law remains true to her American roots which means she carries on the tradition of hosting an American Thanksgiving dinner.
I know you’re thinking “You lucky son of a bitch. Two Thanksgivings in one year.”
Don’t go and get all jealous of us.
You see, my Mother In Law, God Bless her yankee soul, cannot for the life of her cook a turkey.
The prized star of the show, is cooked so fiercely that it is practically mummified.
Yes, it is so dry that it could take center stage at the Smithsonian with King Tut.
There isn’t enough gravy in the entire world that could salvage the taste of gnawing on turkey leather.
And at the end of the evening when we are clearing the food off the table, my Mother In Law always quizzically asks out loud, “Why is there so much turkey leftover?”
It’s one of those awkward moments where everyone in the vicinity of her suddenly comes down with Helen Keller-itis.
No one has the heart to tell her that we could sand an entire wooden dinning room set with a slice of her turkey.
Did I mention that I love my Mother In Law?
So she can’t cook a turkey.
But she really shines in her baking. Like her pumpkin cheesecake?
I’d stab a puppy for it.
I’m not lying either.
Thankfully, my gallbladder is still being an asshole and I can only eat about a cup of food at a time. So I have an excuse to not eat the turkey.
Shawn and Chunky are taking one for the team this year.
But turkey isn’t what Thanksgiving is all about.
It’s about being thankful for family and other sappy junk like health…choke…gag…pft…stupid body of mine…and Mother In Laws who try their hardest to carry on American traditions.
Anyways, I hope that all of my American friends have a wonderful and safe Thanksgiving.
Enjoy your juicy turkeys.