This will be the "Ghost of Christmases Past"

The Christmas menu must have been a bit challenging this year, even though I planned it in advance.  Christmas eve, the Minnesota company arrived especially anxious to see Nathan and Andrew.  We all sat down to eat pulled chicken sandwiches before going off to church services.  I ran upstairs to change into my "church clothes."  By the time I got back, the family was gathered around the table with salad and sandwiches on their plates.  I looked at the somewhat skimpy meal and asked if anyone wished chips with their meal.  I was assured they were fine, so we ate, rehearsed and then went to church. 

The next day we spent preparing our Christmas dinner.  The family arrived for dinner and during a lull in preparations we opened our presents.  Then back to the final touches on the meal.  The menu laid on the island in plain view, but who reads a menu?  When it was time to carve the turkey and move into the last minute frenzy to get everything on the table, I realized THE DRESSING NEVER GOT INTO THE OVEN.  How to save the dressing?  The only option was to nuke it in the microwave.  I hate cooking in the microwave, but there was no other option.  I warned everyone not to tell me it was the best dressing ever, even if they thought it.  When I went to the fridge and pulled out the casserole dish and pulled off the lid I found BAKED BEANS; not baked.  Baked beans!?  I had to think a minute.  Did I forget to bake those, too.  No, baked beans weren't on the Christmas dinner menu.  They were supposed to be for Christmas eve.  No wonder the plates looked so empty.  We ended up having them with the next evening's dinner.  Never mind that they weren't on the menu for that meal,either.  Someone had to eat the beans. 

Sunday morning I had to play at church, so Terry was going to prepare pancakes for breakfast.  I had made the batter the night before.  But the strangest thing happened... the batter bubbled on the grill and evaporated leaving a brown stain on the grill.  We tried turning down the grill and adding a little more milk to the batter.  But the same thing happened.  Oh, well.  Change the menu.  I had made the pancakes with kefir (my new health trend) and I know Terry was thinking, that was the problem.  I went to church and prayed. 

Sunday afternoon, the menu read turkey and dressing sandwiches (a family tradition from Iowa).  You mix equal parts turkey and dressing and moisten with gravy.  When Terry opened the tupperware with the remaining gravy he noticed it smelled like pancake batter!  Mystery of the evaporating pancakes - solved.  Throughout all of this, I thought this will be the story that rivals the uncooked pumpkin pie Thanksgiving story.  It has reigned almost 20 years as the most told story in the family.