Groan...leftovers...the refrigerator is stuffed with an assortment of containers filled with mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole...and turkey. Then there are the laundry leftovers. Piles of sheets and towels lie on the floor awaiting their turn in the washer. I've already Windexed the fingerprints and nose print evidence from the patio door. The floors have been vacuumed, dispatching the crumb and dirt evidence. Order has been restored to the empty nest. You'd never know that three days ago the house was crammed with adults, kids, and dogs. There isn't much evidence that anything out of the ordinary happened if you look around or is there?
The CSI characters reconstruct the crime from the leftovers-blood, ammo, tire tracks, etc. I'm reconstructing the holiday with the leftovers. The mashed potatoes mean our oldest daughter was here peeling, mashing, and adding secret ingredients for silky smooth and delicious potatoes. The sweet potato casserole means that our youngest daughter created her own casserole recipe on the fly that turned out fabulous. The fingerprints on the patio door were from two small perpetrators that came up with such memorable quotes as:
The piles of laundry mean there were lots of people in the house and we enjoyed every minute they were here. The Diet Coke can in the family room means our son-in-law was enjoying football. The Mad Mallard Squadron sticker means our youngest daughter's boyfriend was here. He's an F-16 pilot. The music spread over the the rack on the piano testifies that our girls were playing and singing Christmas carols. Video surveillance proves it. The odometer on the Jeep indicates a little extra mileage this week for trips to the airport. A dear friend who's a missionary in Africa was able to join the fun too.
This year I'm savoring Thanksgiving leftovers a little longer before I begin decorating for Christmas. It was delightful chaos for a few days. After examining all the evidence the verdict is:
The CSI characters reconstruct the crime from the leftovers-blood, ammo, tire tracks, etc. I'm reconstructing the holiday with the leftovers. The mashed potatoes mean our oldest daughter was here peeling, mashing, and adding secret ingredients for silky smooth and delicious potatoes. The sweet potato casserole means that our youngest daughter created her own casserole recipe on the fly that turned out fabulous. The fingerprints on the patio door were from two small perpetrators that came up with such memorable quotes as:
Grandma, I love your pancakes. Can I have more?
I'm a chocolate milk monster.
I'm hoggin' turkey. More turkey please.
Look! There's a rabbit out there. I want to catch him.
Read the book again, Grandpa.
Read the book again, Grandpa.
The piles of laundry mean there were lots of people in the house and we enjoyed every minute they were here. The Diet Coke can in the family room means our son-in-law was enjoying football. The Mad Mallard Squadron sticker means our youngest daughter's boyfriend was here. He's an F-16 pilot. The music spread over the the rack on the piano testifies that our girls were playing and singing Christmas carols. Video surveillance proves it. The odometer on the Jeep indicates a little extra mileage this week for trips to the airport. A dear friend who's a missionary in Africa was able to join the fun too.
This year I'm savoring Thanksgiving leftovers a little longer before I begin decorating for Christmas. It was delightful chaos for a few days. After examining all the evidence the verdict is:
- You don't have time for everything you want to do together.
- Naps are good for everyone.
- Old friendships are incredible gifts.
- Blessings outweigh the trials.
- Most of all--enjoy it while it lasts!
Comments
I loved it..