What was I thinking?

Spouse & I moved in together, into a house where neither of us had lived before, the week of Halloween, 1996. Just 1 month later we hosted our 1st Thanksgiving.

Spouse's parents came, his brother and sister-in-law, his sister and brother-in-law and their 2 kids, and even our 2 lesbian 'housemates' stayed for dinner. Spouse made the turkey, stuffing, biscuits, and veggies, while his sister brought green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, and his sister-in-law brought pumpkin pies. It was warm and lovely.

The following month his sister decided to host Christmas at her house, and his brother decided to host Easter. From that point on there never seemed to be any discussion about who or where the holidays would be hosted. We'd all staken our claim to our holiday, and so it has been for the last 12 years.

The only major difference is that in Jan 07 Spouse & I moved 130 miles away. Its not a bad drive, and can be made in about 2 1/2 hours. When we discussed the holidays in light of our move, I spoke to the family with confidence and told them we had no intention of giving up hosting 'our holiday', and that they should all plan now to come to the beach for Thanksgiving. After all, we live in a house with 5 bedrooms, 4 1/2 bathrooms, a large living room, dining room, eat-in kitchen, and a TV room. "There's room enough for everyone" I said with wide open arms, feeling like Mr Roark welcoming guests to Fantasy Island.

What was I thinking? Now we're going to have 19 people for a sit-down Thanksgiving dinner, and 13 of them are staying overnight.

Part of the beauty of living in the DC area with all of the family was that on Thanksgiving they all came, visited, ate, visited some more, and then went home. Eventually the house was quiet again and we could load the dishwasher and wash pots and pans in our flannel pajamas and fart and belch at will. Now we're going to have 13 people hanging around, wanting to be fed more than just Thanksgiving diner, using up all our clean sheets and towel, making noise, and preventing us from randomly relieving our turkey-bloated intestines.

"Its going to be great" Spouse tells me. "Don't worry, you know my family's not fancy." (What exactly is that supposed to mean?) "It'll be fun" he tried to reassure me when I finally voiced my 2nd thoughts.

I'm sure he's right. It will be wonderful, and I should be even more grateful than most, since these people accepted me into their family over a decade ago with no conditions. I sure can't say that about the family into which I was born.

So if you don't hear from me for a few days following Thanksgiving, you'll know its because I'm washing mountains of sheets and towels and table cloths.

Moral of the blog: Be careful what you wish for.

Drag Queen name of the day: Bessie Mae Mucho