vampiresIt’s difficult for me admit, but I’ve been taking my kids chocolate from their plastic pumpkins.  I wish I could say it’s only a few pieces, but it’s not.  I’m like a Viking raider plundering and pillaging.  At least I was until my wife caught me.

Then both she and the nanny hid the kids candy.  I found it.  They caught me again and this time they threw the candy away, but not before I squirreled away a piece or two for a rainy day.  I tell you this as a precursor and cautionary tale about my other favorite holiday, Thanksgiving.
Competency in Gluttony and Sloth don’t give kids much of a role model.  They do see me cooking like a demon though and that’s when it gets fun.  All bets are off when they want to help cook.

Cooking with wine or beer becomes a little more difficult.  Can’t pour anything without testing it of course.  Wouldn’t want to ruin the food. Even though I’m French, I still can’t offer them even a sniff yet.

Pouring, in general becomes a test of wills and strength.  “I can do it Daddy,” turns into, “I’ll clean it up Daddy,” faster than you can miss the entire bowl!  Spilled anything mesmerizes children.  It’s like, “Wow! That’s Cool!”

Even dry measures can turn into leading edge thrills and chills.  If enough flour flies into the air, you can pretend that you’re heading into fog or that ghosts have come to haunt your Thanksgiving.

Teaching basic knife skills to a 7 year old boy worries me, but he wanted to try and I wanted to encourage him and concentrate on safety.  I held his tiny hand in my grizzled fingers and helped him navigate with a very sharp knife.  This time my son surprised me.  He figured out how to cut without slicing off his finger.  He asked me if he could cut by himself.  Since I’m such a warm, caring, trusting father, I replied, “Not on your life.  I’m not crazy.  You cut yourself and your mom will slice and dice me!”

My children, both son and daughter wail if I don’t let them help—unless the television goes on.  I could beg and plead for their help at that point and it wouldn’t matter.  It’s like trying to talk to the Sphinx.

I won’t be cooking this year, or at least be the chef du residence.  I might bake a yam or two and open a nice bottle every so often.  Here’s wishing you a safe, happy and healthy Thanksgiving.  Hold on to that knife and help little hands grow safely.

Leave enough room in your stomach for a cup of coffee and in your heart for the people who may not have as much as you.  Please remember that Black Friday is not a part of Thanksgiving and even less so for Chanukah, Christmas and Kwanzaa.