“
Home For The Holidays” November 21, 2012 A Lincoln Daily News Magazine Copyright 2012
4
HOME FOR THANKSGIVING
Six eggs will never
be enough
A Thanksgiving Story
Some may know that when I married, I was
not a spring chicken, but in my 30s it was a first
marriage for me. And, I was not my husband’s
first wife, though I often tell people I am his last.
Richard was widowed at a young age when
his wife lost her battle with cancer. Before
she left this world, though, they produced two
wonderful kids, a son and a daughter, who were
fully grown by the time I came along.
I remember very well that first Thanksgiving
dinner, when the entire family -- and I do
mean entire -- was going to come to our house.
Altogether I was cooking for 13, including in-
laws and “out-laws” of the family, the kids and
their respective girlfriends and boyfriends.
For the most part, I wasn’t daunted by the
task. I’d grown up as a member of a large family
on my mother’s side, and oftentimes it was she
and I who rose early in the morning and trekked
to grandma’s house to help prepare the family
feast.
My means of attack: Make a list, do ahead
what could be done ahead, and when the big
day arrives, it’ll be smooth sailing.
Then came that anxious moment, the one
that most new wives have when the in-laws are
coming, and I blame… oh, I mean, I give credit
to… my dear husband for the whole thing.
It was Wednesday night before Thanksgiving
and I was happily making homemade noodles.
For Southerners like us, noodles heaped on top
of mashed potatoes are a mainstay of the meal,
so I had made six eggs into noodles.
When Rich entered the kitchen, he took a look
at my pile of thinly rolled, beautifully cut, perfect
noodles and simply said: “That isn’t enough.”
I argued that it was six eggs’worth and not the
only thing on the menu.
He simply repeated, “That isn’t enough,” and
returned to his TV show in the living room.
I wanted to balk at his advice, but the
worry began: What if he was right?
So, I went to the fridge,
grabbed six more eggs
and doubled the
stack of noodles
on the cutting
b o a r d .
I
also
grabbed my list
and scratched out the
deviled eggs that were to be a part of the meal.
Then I balked again. What if the deviled eggs
are the one thing everyone is looking forward to?
What if they are all disappointed because there
are none?
I quickly changed out of my flour-coated
clothes and made a mad dash to the grocery store
before it closed.
Somewhere between the noodles and the
deviled eggs, a seed of doubt was planted.
“
What if someone doesn’t like turkey? Better
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