Just like all of the failed television shows I have worked on, Thanksgiving has come and gone just like that. For the first time in many years, we stayed in Los Angeles for the holiday. My parents were obviously here and my sister, Auntie Anne (the pretzel maven), flew in from New York.
It is an Ichikawa tradition to have Thanksgiving dinner served late with an extra dry turkey. But this year we swore it would be different because our tiredness and laziness brought on by the twins (and Grandma Ichikawa) pointed us towards the Marie Callender holiday feast box. For a low bargain price of $89.99, you receive the following: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, yams, mixed vegetables, gravy, cranberry, corn bread, your choice of an apple or pumpkin pie, and a small Native American tribe.
As my sister and I walked home with the feast box, we decided to play a joke on my mom. When we made our way to the front door, we took out half the food out and left it at the front door. As the feast box was handed over to my mom, she opened the box and whispered to my dad, "I tink dey did naht give us everyting...they did naht!" So Mom starts bellowing about how we didn't check the box, and we need to go back to "Mahwee Carrandah" to get the rest of the food. At this point, I was holding Emma in my arms in her little onesies. I tell my sister that we better go back to the restaurant and get the rest of the food. And then I tell my mom that I'll just take Emma, too. My mom starts freaking out.
"Noh noh noh! You cahn't tayk Emmah out dere rike dat! Too cold. Dohn't go! Leave Emmah here wis me! You crayzee? Come bahk here wight nah!"
I start my way out the door and down the hall. Mom comes out waving her arms trying to make me come back.
"Khan bahk! Khan bahk here wight nah!"
Then she sees the food at her feet and gives out her exasperated gasp.
"AAAHHHhhh...you play jokey again. AAAHHHhhh."
Once my mom calmed down over our joke, we all went over the preheating instructions for the food which seemed simple enough. The only problem we ran into was that our oven broke. Yes. That's right. Our oven broke on Thanksgiving Day. It's like having your chimney cave in on Christmas; having no matches on the 4th of July; having no Caucasian disguise on Pearl Harbor day. So we ended up heating our food in the microwave, toaster oven, and the stove top.
We all sat down ready to eat not knowing what to expect. All of us were pleasantly surprised that the food didn't...well...suck. And for once the turkey was not dry; it was cold.