The final Thanksgiving casualty report

Thanksgiving: a time of year we gather together with friends and family to offer thanks for all the blessings in our lives. It's also a time to lose two of the good knives from the knife block, tear through three filthy, disgusting garbage bags looking for them before the trash gets collected, and still discover that they are nowhere to be found (but I did find part of the nutcracker set so the great dig was not entirely futile). It's a time when the pumpkin pudding does not come together, staying liquid and unappealing until after you cook it in the oven ala custard, at which time it tastes a bit like the scrapings of a pumpkin flavored ashtray. It's a time when D. sets a hot pot directly on the dining room table and expresses surprise when it takes the finish off said table. It's a time when all of the side dishes are cold or at best luke-warm because the cook hasn't mastered the art of timing. It's a time when the orange buttermilk rolls come out with the consistency of hockey pucks (but if you can crack the carapace, the insides are hot and fluffy). It's a time when guests mean that computer access is limited given that the computer lives in their room. It's a time when the dirty dishes teeter higher than the kids and the laundry pile threatens to smother anyone trapped underneath it when it topples. It's a time when the amount of leftovers rejected by your children would feed an entire third world country for a week. It's a time when you give thanks that the holiday is finally over and gird your loins for the next one!