Always Next Year

We had our annual Thanksgiving dinner, yesterday, Saturday, instead of Thursday, as Hubby had to work. I always enjoy getting everything ready, practicing my OCD, making sure the table is perfect. My daughter has inherited some of that disorder – lucky for me but not for her. 

So there is a little bit of mismatch at the table. As long as it is organized mismatch I am happy. 

I try telling myself that it just may be more important that my guests are happy – they get to sit where they want and if they grab the wrong glass so that now the mismatch glasses aren’t every other one around the table, who cares. I try to let it go, and it lasts for at least a little bit. And actually, by the time the meat goes on the table (one plate white meat, one plate dark, because even Hubby can’t help himself sometimes), I have almost given up. 

Almost.

Maybe next year, I will learn to truly let go. Randomly place on the table whatever odd-ball glasses and plates and silverware I have. Let the tablecloths be crooked and uneven.  And just be thankful for the things that matter like family and food. And at least having matched napkins.