Monday, November 28, 2011

Left Behind

Friday afternoon, and Mark is hungry.
"Where's the gravy, where's the damn gravy?"
He is in the kitchen shouting as loudly as he can, which isn't so much loud as irritatingly screechy. Crap, I thought to myself, I must have thrown it out.
"I don't know Mark. Maybe somebody took it home with them."
But I knew that wasn't true.
"I'm never cooking Thanksgiving dinner again, you bastard."
It looked like just more stuff in the bottom of a pan to me, and I threw it out. After hours of Mark in the kitchen cooking, roasting, and baking, we all sat down for a gigantic meal. Turkey, ham, sweet potatoes, white potatoes, homemade cranberry sauce, stuffing, macaroni and cheese, and finally collard greens. After jamming as much as possible down our throats, and drinking copious amounts of wine and vodka, Mark and the dinner guests moved over to the living room. I moved into the kitchen. I felt gooey. I could barely move, and the fact that my pants were unsnapped, and my belt unbuckled didn't help. In the kitchen it looked like a tsunami had hit, followed by a hurricane. All I wanted was for it to all go away. I started throwing food in containers for the guests to take home, and much of the rest in the garbage bin. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have taken Mark's hard work and just dumped it, but I was tired, and the wine had taken away my reason.

"Where are the collard greens? Where the hell are my collard greens?"
Mark was on the rampage again, it seems that I had dumped that too.
"Uh, I think Garrett took that home with him. There wasn't very much left anyway."
I did save the turkey, ham, and stuffing. I had saved plenty of that, but the refrigerator was bursting on Thursday evening, and I dumped a lot of food out.

Mark was still pissed and scrounging around for his lunch, "Where the hell is my macaroni and cheese? Did you throw out my macaroni and cheese you asshole?"
Ah ha, I didn't. This time I could turn it all around on Mark. It was pushed way towards the back of the fridge. Finally I had won one.
"Here it is." I said, as I smugly tossed the Tupperware container on the table. It didn't help, there may be no turkey dinner for me next year. Of course there also won't be a horrible mess for me to clean up afterwards either.


  1. I gave much of the food you shared with me to a homeless middle-aged guy named Ty who was camping in the trailer park in a pop up camper. He was grateful as he did not have a Thanksgiving with anyone.

  2. Maybe that will make Mark feel better about his gravy.