Kicking Drumsticks, A-taking Names.

As millions of Americans  cross to-do’s off their holiday checklists, I am busy with Thanksgiving planning of a different sort. I’ve yet to master the art of boiling water. My idea of playing hostess maxes out around offering guests lukewarm tap water and a luxurious loo experience (Yes, I did splurge on 2-ply toilet paper. Yes, you are welcome.). Mostly, I can think of a whole slew of things I rather dig my hands into than the backside of a rubbery turkey. May he rest in peace…. and a heavenly river of gravy. No, I won’t be cooking, cleaning, or fretting over entertaining the masses this Thanksgiving.

We are headed for my sister’s country abode to celebrate turkey and Indians with family. She’ll handle the turkey-loving, the cooking, the cleaning, and probably the adult supervision of my kid, too. I can’t be bothered with the burdensome details of child-rearing when there’s important business like fourth helpings to tend to. While my domestic diva of a sibling straps on that frilly apron and gets to crafting delicious dishes, I’m left with one task to complete before turkey time.


The kid’s bag is easy enough: diapers, more diapers, some pants as we will be expected to feign civilized etiquette, and diapers.

The dude’s bag is even simpler still: pants, sweater vest, pants, and Aspirin. He pauses to contemplate a few hours in the car with me and tucks a discreet bottle of whiskey beneath his finest Cosby sweater.

My travel essentials for this very special holiday are a bit more extensive. My two trunks, three rolling suitcases, and Hello Kitty backpack trump the boys’ one, shared gym bag.

To the untrained eye I’m sure my excessive luggage reeks of a high-maintenance housewife. Perhaps a stranger would assume I am the demanding sort, requiring a bell hop and fork lift to tote my privileged stuff to and fro. Defying stereotypes, I can tell you that my quarter ton of junk contains no hair dryer, makeup, no sparkling shoes or pressed ensembles. If we’re really getting honest, I don’t even plan on packing a bra. Instead, I’ve spent many a year perfecting holiday leisure:

-32 Pair of X-Treme Stretch yoga pants: Pre, Mid, and Post- meal variations in sizes ensure comfort while performing downward dog tree pose   fork to plate combat. Namaste, casserole. Namaste.

10 piece tupperware set: I’d hate to see leftovers go to waste.

– Pumpkin Spice Febreeze: Like a housewarming gift and an apology from my intestines rolled into one, fresh can.

– Guzzle Guzzle for Gobble Gobble Day: A box of wine will liven any sophisticated gathering, or at least make my seat at the kid’s table a little less uncomfortable.

– Cassette Tape: “Savages” from Disney’s Poccahontas offers mood-setting melody, a reminder to fellow diners at the kid’s table that white people are downright dreadful, and an educational opportunity for the young ones to learn about genocide over juice cocktails and mac-n-cheese.

– Queen-sized Air Mattress: For my sister, the gracious host, to snooze on while I take a Tryptophan-induced nap in her King-sized slice of Tempurpedic heaven.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve left some must-have item off my list. I recount the stretchy knickers, the blow-up bed, the various tools for enlightening pint-sized guests of Thanksgiving horrors past. Before loading the last of my traveling circus into the trunk, I come across a doodle from my sister’s daughter.

Criminls or ataking.

Nunchucks. I knew I forgot something.

Wishing you a safe and happy holiday!


23 thoughts on “Kicking Drumsticks, A-taking Names.

  1. Oh my goodness. Sooooo funny! Have a fun nap- Easy on the tryptophan. It might not agree with all that wine. And, dare I say that the kid’s artwork is magnificent? Slightly phallic. But, magnificent, nonetheless. haha!

    1. Patricia, I might give up turkey altogether if it tries to come between me and that box of wine 🙂 I cracked up when I saw her drawing. For a kid who lives across the street from quiet corn fields, “criminls” must be akin to teenagers out tippin’ cows.

  2. I hear that pumpkin spice scent is the number one aphrodisiac for men. Good thinking to bring that along.
    Happy Thanksgiving!

  3. Now that is a great Thanksgiving plan, all I have to do now is to convince my brother to buy into the deal and let me just totally veg with football, turkey, dressing and nunchucks.

  4. I think this is a marketable idea. The holiday survival kit! Once again you put a smile on (when I am not gasping from laughing too hard. Have a wonderful bit o’ overindulgence!! May the rest of your holidays be as joyfully painful!

  5. Great food, comfy bed and attacking criminals – your sister’s house has it all going on for holiday fun!

    I am hosting, but there will only be 6 of us this year – hardly worth the effort. I’m cleaning my house as I type this (at my office), courtesy of this wonderful new thing I just discovered, the cleaning lady who shows up and does stuff without you lifting a finger!

    Happy Thanksgiving!

  6. In a pinch turkey legs and a simple piece of twine can be used to crudely fashion a delicious set of nunchucks. Which is nice, because who can’t use a snack after kicking some ***?!

  7. Hahaha. You’re totally prepared! You never know when you might need to whip out a set of nunchucks. 🙂
    I hope you remembered to bring your Beyonce perfume, too. If you sprayed it on before your king-sized nap, your sister wouldn’t even bother to raise a fuss. She might even GIVE YOU her bed after that!

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