No More Turkey, please (ever).

I still have exactly 31 minutes of Thanksgiving day left before this post becomes obsolete. So here's the skinny: After having over twenty people in my home for Thanksgiving dinner today, I am too wound up to sleep and can only thing about two things - how much I love my Chicago family and how much I hate Thanksgiving food.

Two explanations. The first one is easy. Our families do not live in Chicago, or anywhere near it. I have some relatives in the suburbs, but for numerous reasons I like visiting them separate from holidays. When we settled here and found our church, we quickly adopted a family and community to call home. Therefore, we celebrate holidays together, and I love it. Also explains why I had twenty people in my home today (and it worked out beautifully, I might add!).

Second explanation. Slightly more difficult. I may be the only person in the United States of America who leaves the Thanksgiving dinner table still hungry. And will not be going back for seconds.

I hate traditional midwest Thanksgiving food.

Turkey, no thanks.
Stuffing, gross.
Creamed sides and casseroles, no thanks ever.
Mashed potatoes, yes ok, fine.
Pies. They are good, but I'm pretty much all pumpkin-ed out by now.

Sushi. Yes.

Eric doesn't like Thanksgiving food either, so even though we agreed to cook a small turkey for the benefit of everyone coming, he also grilled baby back ribs, steaks, and steak and bacon wrapped shrimp.

So I should have been plenty full, even with never taking a bite of the turkey.

But with both my girls needing things and being in my lap and all the commotion of twenty people in one room together, I'm pretty sure I didn't get the food coma. Which is a good thing, because who needs it? And while everyone was laying around moaning and groaning about how full they all were, I felt just fine.

Next Thanksgiving, I will not be cooking a turkey. And may not, ever again. Because turkeys are not ever mandatory for a good Thanksgiving. Friends and family, on the other hand, are.