While other people ignore the warnings and pack the airports, there will be no Savage family Thanksgiving. Can’t have 20-plus people gather in 2020.
We thought about it. We almost bought a propane heater to keep the 90-year-old House Elf above 100-degrees in the 80-degree Thanksgiving day – you gotta love “winter” in Phoenix.
We had plans to “socially distance” in the backyard and force 7 little Savage households to sit at their own tables — order in their own dinners.
But even that shit seemed too much in the pandemic.
Then the phone calls and new plans started. What to do with my 90-year-old dad?
He got invited to my dinner with my niece and her husband’s family. Almost five years later, we are still waiting for her to “submit” to her husband’s will. 20 of the nicest Christian people from South Dakota you ever want to meet. The niece has a toddler. Everybody is going to pack inside to pinch the cheeks of that chubby little boy. Masks would be something new for that crowd.
Dad said. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be outside in a corner…”
Decided we would have a few people in our backyard for dessert. Dad will be in one corner, but the rest of us will be in the other corners — shouting across the void.
I thought, “this will be easy.”
Then the day before Thanksgiving the list started.
- Clean the outside table
- Hose down the outside chairs
- Wipe down the cushions
- Get the dust off the coolers
- Clean the bathrooms
Shit. Having a few people over is almost as much work as 20 (for me — the Bear and the other Savages do the real work.)
I might as well wait for helios to get high in the sky and fire up the grill or the boiling water. But thankfully no outside cooking for me.
“It’s going to be my first turkey,” the Bear said. “Hope I don’t screw it up.”
She won’t. Even if she does, there’s enough pie to feed an army. Pecans trump turkey.
For the first time in 36 years, it will be Thanksgiving with only the original Savage and a few of my family. Hope I don’t screw it up.