Gobble. . .Gobble. . . Gasp. . . Panic. . . .

Next Thursday, I will be hosting my very first Thanksgiving.

I must confess, I was smug in my preparedness. I’d received advice from my wise on-line friends about preparing the bird (brined, tented, breast-side-down). I’d plotted out the timeline and refrigerator real-estate for preparing the various side-dishes. I’d already washed and pressed the good linen napkins and tablecloth. The Small Child had helped me with the production of adorable turkey-handprint placecards.

And then (of COURSE there’s an “and then”).

Overnight, the size of my gathering doubled. DOUBLED, people. And I have to tell you, there is a HUGE difference in the logistics between a lovely dinner-for-seven and that same dinner for fifteen. Not the least of which being, I possess neither china nor utensils for fifteen.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am very happy to have these people in my home. They’re some of the most wonderful people I know (my godmother, my favorite cousins, a dear friend who was in our wedding). . . but I am stressing. I feel as though I should take the afternoon off to run around madly purchasing gravy boats and additional seating.

I need some off-the-ledge talking here, people.

You wish you were married to me.

The laundry is done. The floors are clean. The playroom is picked up. There's a pot of soup simmering for dinner and a fresh loaf of bread waiting to start up in the bread machine. I've got the meal plan and associated grocery shopping done for the next week. I have holiday crafts planned to do with the Small Child to keep her from whining for "Dowa," since our cable's still not hooked up. I just helped a friend solve a work problem that was threatening to torpedo his project. And my pregnant rack fully qualifies as "bodacious."

I am woman. Hear me roar, motherfucker.

Harbingers of the Apocalypse

1. "Holiday Spice" Pepsi. Really? Was there a gigantic, untapped demand for additional holiday-themed merchandise? Was plain ol' Pepsi just not festive enough for the folks out there? Why would you do this? Not to mention, the shot-glass full I sampled at the grocery store yesterday tasted exactly like Captain and Coke, only without alcohol. Why would you want to drink something that tasted like that, if not to get drunk?

2. This. Is the person who came up with this an evil genius, or a soulless wretch with no sense of irony whatsoever? That said, I know what I'm buying as stocking stuffers this year.

3. I *finally* updated!