Last Saturday, a group of friends decided to have a softball team family thanksgiving dinner. Since all of us were going to be with our own families on the actual Thanksgiving day, the dinner was held the weekend before. It was amazing to see all 14 of us sitting at the dining table about to eat a meal we ‘cooked’. I use this term lightly because although some of us slaved all the day long in kitchen, the boys insisted that it would be more practical to order some turkey and some sides from a restaurant. I don’t get their logic (not that I tried) but I think the girls definitely showed them that having a home cooked meal was a more fun experience. It was funny to see where we all were in life. Some were married, some had kids, and I thought to myself holy shiznet… I’m an adult. Yes, it took the cutest 1 3/4 year old girl in the whole wide world, sitting on her daddy’s lap, a couple of plates, and some fine ass friends to make me realize that I am no longer a child. It’s not a bad thing. No, it’s a great thing. I’ve been so busy with life, I forgot to stop and take it all in. I don’t want to take a second of this life for granted. With all the chaos and unexpected bumps, I forgot to dwell on all the moments that made me smile. Dwelling in itself has a negative connotation to the word, but when you’re dwelling on something good, surely it can’t be all that bad.
The preparation of the dinner was so much fun. I love cooking. It always amazes me how certain ingredients can mesh so well with one another and create something that make people go MMMmmmmm. My parents always hated when I cooked. Not because I was bad (though I will admit I have made some iffy meals in the beginning of my experimenting). My mother, in particular, hated me cooking because I had a tendency of making a bit of a mess. But after years and years of nagging, I somehow found a way to be a neat cook. I will be the first to admit it is definitely a difficult feat, but it’s definitely nice to not have to clean up at the end and I don’t have to hear my mom nag -cough cough- I mean give me loving reminders.
A few pictures to show y’all just how much fun I had…

Yeah, that’s right… I divide my ingredients into individual bowls. I like to pretend I am the great Martha Stewart. Maybe I’m not as grown up as I thought I was… Those were the ingredients for the green bean casserole and the cheese was for the twice baked potatoes (both of which I didn’t have time to take a picture of because they were gone almost immediately).

’tis my classic, but always a goodie, pecan pie. When making this pie, I always have to make two, one for the actual occasion and the other is for my family. They are not very nice when they have a craving…

Overall, it was a wonderful dinner filled with lots of love and laughter. Precious memories were made and will be cherished for years to come. Next year, we’re definitely cooking the whole thing except the fowl… we’ll leave that to the pros at Pio Pio.
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