With this many cooks…it takes planning to please everyone.

Usually I’m right in there with the crazies, but last night I wanted out.  My phone was blowing up.  I’d heard of phones “blowing up”, but had no idea the truth in that phrase until it happened to me.  My sisters, two nieces, one  nephew, two daughters and me were part of group texting.  I did not know who started it, probably one of the kids wanting to know about Thanksgiving.  After about 10 texts, I turned my volumn off.  After 20 texts, I asked to be excused.  “Take me out of this group.”  Hahaha…they respond.  After 30 texts, I turn off my phone.  An hour later I turn on my phone.  It starts dinging maybe 20 times to get me caught up.  Then it continues.  They’re still texting.  One of the texts says “Mom doesn’t know how to get in or out of a group. Haha”  Phone off, again.  They are texting pictures of grumpy husbands and newspaper articles and dogs and and and…

This morning I look at the texts.  “Joe’s studying and he wants out of this, but I don’t know how to get him off.”  My adult sister started the texting.  She should know better.

This is what we’re having this year for Thanksgiving… a big fat frozen-ass turkey will be on Jill’s porch waiting for Aunt Diane to retrieve and cook.  Elaine is bringing mono-dressing this year instead of her usual flu-dressing.  Joe is bringing Hawaiian bed bugs and liquor.  Lori is bringing apple shit peedie pie and twenty random dishes.  Along with these specialities we will have the customary side dishes, gossip and naps.

I guess the texting was necessary.  We didn’t want any duplicates.  This Thursday’s dinner will be perfect.  I bring the same dishes each year.   I was pulled into the planning because I am the matriarch and I have the final say on nothing.