This holiday season, do it your way!

Thanksgiving is my holiday. I’ve claimed it, I own it. Just ask anyone in my family. For almost 35 years I have cooked and decorated for it my way. I’ve stood my ground when my two long-suffering, dishwashing sisters have begged, cried and bullied for paper plates instead of the good china. I’ve dug in my heels when my husband (who wishes the ground would open up and swallow me during the week before the holiday) makes his yearly plea for us to all go out to a nice Thanksgiving buffet somewhere, anywhere.

As I plan every year, tearing out recipes from every foodie magazine (I always end up making the same thing), making lists of movies we will see all together (if they let me drag them to see even one movie, it’s a big year), pulling out the games we will all play over late evening coffee and dessert (my kids, full time working, new parents are usually trying to keep their eyes open during dinner), and visualizing this incredibly warm, fuzzy, loving, family bonding weekend, I know that for four amazing nights, my children and grandchildren will be sleeping under our roof—snug in their beds, with visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads. (Truth be told, I have no idea what a sugarplum is, but being Jewish, we don’t get to have the fanfare of Christmas, so on Thanksgiving those things better dance!)

I cared about preparing the picture-perfect home-cooked meal. Until I didn’t. I caved. I agreed to have Thanksgiving catered.

The food still had to be warmed—the yearly struggle to have everything served hot at the same time. My helpers—well, I was competing with football, so…I finally got it together and everything was beautifully plated and out on the buffet, and the gang came straggling over to get their food, dressed for the special occasion in team sweatshirts, pajama bottoms and scrubs…my wine glasses, good china and newly polished sterling silver flatware sparkled in an almost taunting way.

Of course, our oldest son immediately managed to say something to mortally wound our daughter (“he was only joking”) — what would a family get together be without that? And a good chunk of dinner was devoted to them arguing.

The game and movie were put on hold until the next evening—everyone was so exhausted…a couple of people made lame offers to help with the dishes but I just wanted to get everything finished and put away. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but maybe the anticipation is a little better than the actual event.

The next day everyone was sort of dragging around and by the middle of the day there were some queasy stomachs going on…mine included.

We brought out the mega amounts of leftovers for lunch…and I mean we were really dragging. It was only a matter of hours and there was the echo of retching (among other things) all over the house…every bathroom was working overtime.

As I was hanging over the toilet, my husband, who miraculously escaped being poisoned, was doing what seemed like hundreds of pounds of laundry, making trips to the store for ginger ale and saltines, and to the pharmacy for anything to put in any orifice that might stop the vomiting…(guessing he wouldn’t be interfering in my typical planning in years to come).

That night as they all were snug in their beds, I sort of hoped those sugarplums were smacking a few of them in their heads.

So, a bit of the twinkle went out of our holiday that year. Back to plan A for 2017!

Did I mention that in our family we have two vegetarians, one person who doesn’t eat fruit or tomatoes, one person who doesn’t eat onions, two people who don’t eat cheese or CHOCOLATE (!), and one person who doesn’t eat dressing, condiments, seasoning or any of the above, two people who don’t eat fish, and—only one person who even likes turkey?

So, we are having chicken. I used to make a separate dish for the vegetarians but there will be plenty of well thought out side dishes for them to feast on and worst-case scenario, peanut butter and jelly or cereal! Perhaps something smacked me in the head in the middle of the night, but I finally wised up.

And—on Christmas Eve, we will be having Chinese food (traditional Jewish Christmas fare)—on paper plates. And I will NOT be the one driving out to pick it up.

Vicki Bernie is a freelance writer, wife, mother, grandmother, and dog person…loving “Chapter Two” on Daniel Island.