In our refrigerator sits a rubbermaid container of cranberry sauce, half full. A week after Thanksgiving, that lonely cranberry sauce is all we have left of our 13-pound turkey, 9x13 pan of stuffing, 8x8 pan of sweet potatoes, 1 1/2 dozen rolls, quart of gravy, four pounds of mashed potatoes, and a pumpkin pie.
Tonight the last of the turkey and gravy was served up as a delicious pot pie, and we have turkey noodle soup leftovers waiting in the refrigerator for my lunch. We ate Thanksgiving for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday dinners, much to Kathleen's despair. The only food that went bad was the pie, left out of the refrigerator too long. I'm amazed by how fertile pumpkin pie is for fuzzy mold.
Growing up, I never got very excited about Thanksgiving dinner, as my mother can (and probably will in the comments) attest. Turkey was about as appetizing as sawdust, and even cranberry sauce was too wild for my tastes. Many a dish of plain Jello was brought so that I had something to accompany my roll and mashed potatoes.
This year, however, as I was eating leftover turkey for lunch, I realized why Thanksgiving is so anticipated - the food is good. I considered getting a few turkeys from the commissary and stashing them for later. Perhaps it can become a semi-annual event in our house. After all, who says you have to be thankful only once a year?