Every year around this time, my friend Kathie tells the pre - Thanksgiving, story about the time when one of her daughters had to call the 1 - 800 - Turkey - Talk - Line and was advised to throw out the entire bird due to an oven mal - function. Reading her account of that event is a holiday tradition for me now because it "normalizes" my sad memory of inadvertently leaving the freezer door ajar when the whole family went to Chicago a few days before Christmas (in 2013) to see Wicked. Imagine my dismay to get home and realize that everything had been defrosting for 72 hours by the heat of the light bulb inside the freezer.
Ben and Sam were not sympathetic to my cries when they ran down to the basement and discovered the cause. They said, "Mom, this is nothing; we thought one of the cats had died!" They grabbed a big garbage bag, tossed everything in, and drove it over to the nearby apartment complex with a dumpster (so all that rotting food -- including two turkeys -- would not be in our backyard trashcan for the rodents to tear into).
Ben went to the store and bought everything new for Christmas dinner; and Sam cheered me up by saying, "Don't feel bad, Mom, nobody wanted to eat that food anyway" (in reference to my summer's worth of frozen garden produce -- squash, zucchini, okra, green tomato puree, rhubarb, and so forth). Sigh! The best laid plans . . .
Kathie writes: omg, Kitti, what a great (or something!) story! Your boys responded perfectly! And I'm really flattered that you are now making my post about Christina part of your holiday tradition. I know she'd be flattered as well!
. . . and guilt - free Thanksgiving!