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Dinner Time at the Metaphor
Let’s say I prepared a great Thanksgiving dinner. The turkey was just right. Crispy brown skin, juicy and tender inside, and full of flavor. (Spatchcocked, of course.) All the side dishes were made just so. The mashed potatoes were fluffy and smooth, the gravy delicious. There was stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, baked macaroni and cheese, yeast rolls, crescent rolls, banana bread, pumpkin bread, and every family favorite, all perfectly prepared.
Of course, there were some compromises. Uncle Ben prefers smooth mashed potatoes but Uncle Jeff wants homestyle and lumpy. Uncle Tim likes water chestnuts in the dressing but Aunt Liz prefers it with no nuts at all. Some people like a breadcrumb topping on the mac and cheese. Others want homemade cranberry sauce instead of canned. Uncle Mitch wants to put powdered sugar on top of everything. Compromises were made. Overall the meal was prepared so the majority of the family would be happy.
But right when the meal was about to be served, it happened. Uncle Chuck started telling people it was tofurky and not real turkey. Uncle Dick claimed he saw me spit in the green bean casserole and cough on the sweet potatoes. And Aunt Diane said that the whole meal was contaminated with salmonella and that we were all going to get food poisoning and die. Cousin Don started yelling that it was the best turkey ever in the history of all turkeys, and Uncle Lindsey of all people backed him up and threatened to wrestle anyone who disagreed. All in all, about half the family said it was awful and even the ones that liked the food were unhappy. Some of them even started muttering about taking the meal back to the kitchen and ordering pizza. Thankfully that didn’t happen.
But here’s the thing. I shouldn’t feel guilty that Thanksgiving dinner was unpleasant. It absolutely was a fantastic dinner and one to be proud of. The blame lies entirely with the ones who lied about the meal and tried to ruin it. I have no regrets about Kavanaugh the dinner and neither should anyone else.
Indeed.
Well, all well & good, but he ain’t turkey dinner-
I would have thought Uncle Ben liked the rice, but I get your point.
Cory Booker is going to make public that secret green bean casserole recipe to show how brave he is. I am Sproutacus!
Yeah, no. It doesn’t count as cranberry sauce if you can’t still see the ribbing from the tin can when it’s served.
And keeps rubbing his nose suspiciously?
He gets surprisingly animated after the meal. And by that I mean he smiles a bit. Normally he’s completely deadpan.
Uncle Mitch wasn’t hungry because well, I mean have you ever done cocaine?
Nope. I have put powdered sugar on lots of food though!
After I eat too much food with powdered sugar on it I’m not hungry anymore.
Too much food without as well.
As my mom would say: “you will eat whats put in front of you”!
Never heard that as a metaphor for “I like beer” before.
But then it turns out it’s just the recipe from the back of the can.
The only thing that really matters is if the stuffing had cornbread in it or not.
I’m just hoping that you aren’t setting us up for three weeks of nothing but articles about Thanksgiving dinners.
Not only is he gonna give you the articles, but they’ll be leftovers from last year.