If my boyfriend forgets to bring the pecan pie, I think ...
A. No biggie, I'll ask a friend to pick one up on the way over.
B. Eh, there's some Toaster Strudel and Viennetta ice cream in the freezer that will do.
C. I'll whip one up--right after I finish embroidering the tablecloth, butchering the organic turkey out back, churning my own butter, and finding a new boyfriend.
When I cook, I wear ...
A. The same jeans and sweater I always do; why would I get a designer dress splattered with batter?
B. A Donna Reed--inspired ruffled apron paired with combat boots, just because I feel like it.
C. A pressed and starched chef's suit, including monogrammed toque.
My ruling on the "stuffing goes inside or outside of the turkey" debate is ...
A. I prefer to put it to a group vote.
B. Whatever the directions on the Stove Top box say.
C. That totally depends on whether it's my heirloom tomato stuffing, my spicy chorizo stuffing, or my Southwestern cornbread stuffing.
The most important thing about Thanksgiving is ...
A. That everyone pulls his/her weight, both in the kitchen and in conversation.
B. Two days off from work!
C. That my friends and family express their awe for all that I did in a handpressed, promptly mailed thank-you card.
At your house, everything's gravy, even if you forget to make the actual gravy. Your night will go over without a hitch if you delegate and keep your right-wing neighbor from starting in on taxes.
Your holiday is all about breaking the rules. Leave your square family at home, invite some friends over for whatever hodgepodge of a meal you can pull together, and blast some Rancid. (Sorry, Grandma!)
You'll accept nothing less than a Rockwell-perfect meal--even if it kills you (and your guests) in the process. Start carving those radish rosettes!