It’s day three of the invasion, and I fear my kitchen will not stand much longer. The humiliations suffered by the poor room are numerous: singed washcloths, milk charred onto the stove top, and not one good picture. It was already a stressful time of year for the little kitchen on the eve of the biggest cooking day of the year, let alone the crazy people mis-operating its stove top. Who are these invaders you ask? None other than my brother, Vinnie, and my sister, Katherine . My third sibling Charlie, who has inflicted his own damage on our kitchen in the past, sadly could not come home this Thanksgiving.
The night before Thanksgiving, each of us innocently began our cooking for the big day. Pies baked in the oven, macaroni sauce simmered on the stove, and cranberries boiled in the saucepan. All was going well- until the cheese sauce boiled over, which led to an unusable stove top (for the night), and a charred washcloth (from a well-meaning attempt to clean up the mess) and a smoky kitchen (not unusual on big cooking nights). From that point on tensions rose in the kitchen, every man for himself, each dish to its own counter. Thanksgiving could’ve very well torn us apart, had I not been way too excited to have my siblings home. Every year as the holidays roll around, I can’t hide my excitement that my siblings are coming home. So, while it’s true that Squash Macaroni is thicker than blood, my loyalty to my family is much stronger than my loyalty to my kitchen. Despite the mishaps from the night before, we rallied on Thanksgiving Day and everyone enjoyed a lovely and delicious meal, thanks to my siblings.
We can’t wait for Christmas.