Holidays always seem to take me by surprise. I always think there's one more week before I have to clean and prepare for the holiday.
I had taken Dad to another doctor appointment yesterday. When we arrived home, they started discussing holiday plans. Usually, the holiday plans involve Himself going to pick up the Weebles and bring them to our house. I stay home cleaning like a fiend and preparing the roast beast.
This year, Ma wants to pre-order the holiday meal from the grocery store. I've done it in the past when she had her stroke and brought meals on wheels to them. Dinner comes in a box. It's all cooked, from gravy to pie, and you just heat and eat. It's great. So, after several go arounds about "Don't worry, Ma, I'll cook and take care of everything" it was left that she would call, you guessed it in the cheap seats, Market Basket to order dinner.
I'm tearing down the Pike when it occurs to me. Thanksgiving is next week! And what's this about her ordering dinner? I'll have to fight through the Wednesday crowd to pick the damn box up!
I was much happier when I thought I had another week.