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Settle in, children, for this is the story of Mom and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Day.

I should have said that was my day, but I might be overstating it a tad. If you will recall, my previous entry saw me warm and cozy at a friend�s house with a cat sleeping on my feet and a wonderful toasted Ottawa bagel on my plate. I was so loathe to motivate that I lingered over coffee, telling myself I had time and it was more important to visit with those I so rarely am able to see in person; I�m such a liar. To myself, anyway.

By the time I�d gotten up and dressed and packed and all the �thanks!� and hugs out of the way and was on the road, I was a full half hour behind. I stopped for gas because I firmly believed worrying about the gas gauge all the way home was going to do nothing positive for my blood pressure and hey, I was already late. My friend and I had quickly concocted a lame excuse about snow streamers on the way into Toronto, so I had that to fall back on if I were to get Mom�s patented Eyebrow of Shame�. As it turns out, I didn�t have to worry, but I�ll get to that later.

I put Pepe on cruise control (130km/hr, oops) and relaxed. Two hours later, a personal record, I landed in to the photo store in the south end of town to drop off some photo equipment for J�s brother and headed home. I gathered together my chocolate cheesecake, cards, gifts and The Boy and switched vehicles so he could show off his new F150 to the Windsor relatives. We got there around 1:20, so hardly late at all. As we unpacked, my cousins drove in so we all shed out outer wear while clogging up the front foyer, laughing and chatting and finding out the newest on everyone�s lives. My youngest cousin finally proposed to Lorraine (possibly the loveliest girl I know), so we�ve now got a circle around a Saturday in September. I�m so pleased; for a few years we were truly worried about how that boy would end up.

Now, we don�t launch into gifts until everyone is present, so that left my sister and her family. Late is their middle name and their logo and probably their One-Word Mission Statement. Most of the time it takes the heat off me, but on this one day of the year we like to keep to a pretty strict schedule since my relatives have to climb back in their vehicles at a sensible hour and drive back to Windsor so they will be in good shape for work the next day. An hour and a half later, I could see things weren�t going to happen that way this year.

When they finally showed up we were already finishing up the personal gift-giving, so I hope we made an impression. (She had her cell on her, so the least we could have gotten was an apologetic phone call).

The Yankee Swap was next and I have to say it was the most rousing game of steal-the-present I�ve witnessed in years. I think I�ve really managed to convince everyone not to be polite and to go for the present you want with everything you�ve got. We were downright un-Canadian for about half an hour there!

Mom got up after the game to baste the turkey. From my vantage point, I can see into the kitchen; what I saw puzzled me. Mom called Dad over and let him peek under the foil at the bird. The looks on their faces told me and my Spidey sense that something was afowl in my hometown. (Yes, afowl).

The oven element was fried. The turkey was stuck at 155F and I didn�t see a way that we were going to reach 180 without the aid of someone else�s oven or a large deep fryer. I felt so sorry for Mom, who was furiously paging through the Yellow Pages, trying to come up with a solution before anyone found out. The largest restaurant is about eight minutes away and they were kind enough to help us out and sell us thirteen portions of stuffing, dark and white turkey meat to help round out our meal. Briefly, the idea of pizza was thrown around but the traditionalists in the bunch quashed that idea, but quickly; maybe next year.

So in the end we were all stuffed, gifted and talked out and my being late was out shadowed by the spectacular lateness of my sister so I avoided the eyebrow.

Who could ask for more?

Posted at 3:14 p.m.