Thanksgiving Eve

Thanksgiving is Husband's Holiday. He essentially trains all year for this one day. Not in the way you think. Most husbands are marathon eaters; not at this house. Here, Husband is the Grand Master of Turkey Chefs.

He spends hours reading the latest trends and methods. Last year, he woke up at 5 a.m. to ensure the turkey went in at the right time. He made a schedule, coordinating when various items could be in the oven for what amounts of time. He hand bastes the bird, he stuffs it, he makes sure to put the bird in upside down first so that later he can rotate it to cook the breast meat last. He does a lot of pat-drying and somewhere in there he butters the entire outside for that lovely browned effect.

For the most part, I consider myself very lucky to be married to a man who is so passionate about a perfect turkey. I am a horrible cook, probably because just listening to husband explain what he does to make the turkey makes my head hurt. But there is one thing I do love, and that's control. And since Husband is the Grand Master, he gets to control everything about Thanksgiving dinner. I am relegated to setting the table.

On Saturday, he was running through the shopping list while I was doing homework. He asked me if he had missed anything. He read through his list again. Something caught my attention...

He was going to purchase rolls? FIVE DAYS before Thanksgiving? Gross. Stale rolls. No. No no no. Thanksgiving does not work like that. Husband jokingly asked me if that meant I was going to take care of the rolls. He acted as if I was incapable of getting rolls. Jerk. Yes, I announced to Husband, I am in charge of rolls.

Today, I picked up the teenager from college and we began the snowy trek back home. Last week he was a candidate in my undergrad sorority's sweetheart competition, and while he didn't win he wasn't too concerned. Maybe because the winners aren't allowed to date any of the girls in the house. Anyways, he was telling me about the turkey dinner at the sorority last Monday. I reminisced with him, remembering the awesome bread at sorority dinner...

EEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!

The teenager looked at me, wondering what that sudden high-pitched noise was. And about that time, Husband called. To suggest that we stop and pick up some rolls. In case I hadn't done it yet. Before I could stop him, the teenager put it all together and began telling Husband that yes, I had in fact only recently remembered my one responsibility for dinner.

And that's why we purchased a dozen wheat dollar buns and a package of 36 frozen white rolls. Because Thanksgiving Eve is not the time to be scrounging for dinner rolls. Husband accused me this evening of riding on his Turkey Coattails. Oh shut up.