Dusk on a holiday

It is getting dark outside. Thanksgiving Day is almost over. The day without malls and most stores has just about come to an end.

I never did get makeup on my face today. After my shower, I threw on clothes that I intended to soil as I slaved in the hot kitchen all morning. Then, just before the meal was to be served, I was going to throw on a trendy, hot number, fluff my hair, fix my face and dazzle everyone with my fabulousness.

Instead, what happened was that I was consumed by fixing the meal. Younger son woke with a temperature and was needy. The house was in need of attention, and, well, the clock just ran down.

So what, right? Who is looking at me?

So, I put the meal on the table in our effort to celebrate the American tradition of Thanksgiving, and our older son would have nothing to do with it. There were too many people at the table. No way. No how. He was NOT going to sit there no matter what I did. I even gave him the crazy mom bug eye thing. He didn't care. He climbed up and over his grandmother on the banquette seating and sprinted out of the room.

The little squirt.

With him gone, I turned to our younger son, who looked at me as though he had a rat in his mouth.

"What's your problem?" I asked (very lovingly).

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Fill your plate," I ordered.

He did nothing. Oh, I get it. After his excitement about preparing for this holiday, it has just now struck him that he hates all of the food. Turkey? Heck no! That's meat. It's stringy. He doesn't DO stringy meat. Stuffing? Nope. It's spicy. He doesn't DO spicy. Sweet potato casserole with marshmallows? Huh-uh. It's mushy. He doesn't DO mushy. This kid is so texturally challenged it's a wonder he isn't wasting away.

Put out by his brother's display, I became stern. I told him to put three "No Thank You Bites" on his plate. He didn't move, so I chose for him and moved him to his seat at the table where my husband was forcing a gleeful conversation with his parents. One by one, I spooned the small bites of food into our son's mouth. The idea was that you can't say you don't like something if you have never tasted it. Well, truth be told, I think that kid just knew he was going to hate the feeling of that food in his mouth even before he tasted it. By the third bite, he was reduced to tears. The adults laughed in exasperation. The child thought we were laughing at him, and he cried even harder.

And that is how, in less than five minutes, this holiday went right down the toilet. The holiday where we as a country gather socially around food is played out in the above manner in my house, the house of food and social aversions.

Even still, right now, in this moment, as the sun sinks below the clouds, I am actually feeling thankful.

I am thankful for the airport and its many escalators on this holiday.

I am thankful for Big Lots and KMart, who also kept their doors open today.

I am thankful for hippies, for without them the natural food movement would never have taken off, and my allergen free Thanksgiving cooking would never have been possible.

I am thankful for my husband, who stared at my middle aged face without make up all day and said not one word.

And, in a few hours, I'll be thankful for children in bed and a chilled glass of wine at the end of this Thanksgiving Day.

Hope you have all had a good one!