Out of necessity, Thanksgiving at our house has required
last-minute change. Please be advised the following notes
are to help you arrive fully prepared.

1. Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag
luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no
matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not
have the desired welcoming effect.

2. Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is
not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage
I had planned to make. Instead, I've gotten the kids involved
in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn
leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

3. The dining table will not be covered with expensive
linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we
will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork.
Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the
plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last
Christmas.

4. Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and
flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a
hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest
construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

5. We will be dining fashionably late. The children will
entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy
to share every choice comment I have made regarding
Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hotline. Please
remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 AM
upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to
cut diamonds. As accompaniment to the children's recital,
I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the
children should mention that I don't own a recording of
tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds
suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer,
ignore them. They are dramatizing too much.

6. We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell
to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to
keep our traditional method. We've also decided against a
formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds,
please gather around the table and sit where you like. In
the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at
a separate table... in a separate room... next door.

7. Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person
carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative
onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For
safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private
ceremony. I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any
circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not
send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress.
I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It
stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do,
we will eat.

8. I would like to take this opportunity to remind my
young diners that "passing the rolls" is not a football
play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head
with warm tasty bread.

9. Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration
of the meal, and especially while in the presence of you
diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its
lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions
you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead
ignorance. Cheese Sauce stains.

10. Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of
offering a choice among 12 different scrumptious desserts,
we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished
with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still
have a choice; take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this
Thanksgiving. She probably won't come next year either.
I am thankful.