So I undercooked the turkey, which meant eating at 5:00 instead of 2:00 (but at least we ate:)
Three hours into basting the bird, I snatched a nibble of crusty stuffing and I found a dime size piece of glass, so all the stuffing went in the trash (but we had all the ingredients, so I made more:)
I forgot to leave room in the oven to bake the hors d'oeuvre (so we ate them with the meal:)
The baby turned his nose at almost everything (but could have been a poster child to sell sweet potato pie:)
In the end, everything was made with love.
And everything made it on to our plates.
We experienced the traditional meal with the pleasure of indulgence and the queasiness of gluttony.
All in all, a great Thanksgiving.
