It's Me, Sara Louise

I had been planning this year’s Thanksgiving for months. Maybe not ‘planning’ per se, but definitely talking about it. I wasn’t 100% satisfied with the way it had turned out last year and not just the Rudy McRuderude part. It was my first Thanksgiving that I cooked myself and that combined with the fact that I wasn’t cooking it in my own kitchen, meant things didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked. It was still good, just not Sara Louise approved good. So this year I started talking about it way back in August.

This year, Thanksgiving would be Francegiving on Saturday the 30th and Gregory, Honey Jr., Honey’s Honey and Mrs. London would be celebrating with me. Poor Mr. London had a match in Paris and wouldn’t be able to join us. I could tell he was sad about it because whenever I would see him he’d look at me and ask, “when is Thanksgiving again?” And I’d reply, “Saturday November 30th, you can’t come, you’ll be in Paris” and then he would get a sad, pouty face.

Friday the day before my Francegiving and the day after your Thanksgiving, I was all set. I had my plans written out and was cooking away while waiting for the text from Mrs. London to let me know that she and Napoleon were on the way. Instead I got a text that said, “Is there room at the table for one more?”

It turned out that Mr.London wouldn’t be playing in Paris after all, although he was supposed to have a few training sessions to go to instead. But then a Thanksgiving miracle occurred… Rudy McRudrude (who happens to be one of Mr. London’s coaches) gave Mr. London permission to miss practice so he could join us for Thanksgiving. You know how at the end of ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’, the Grinch’s heart grew to be three times its normal size? That’s what I feel like happened here, Rudy McRuderude’s heart grew. (For those of you who have no idea who this Rudy McRuderude character is, or why his heart needed to grow, read my post; The Grinch That Stole Thanksgiving.)

So I replied that of course there was room for one more but only if we kept it a secret from Gregory. Gregory had been so distraught that Mr. London wouldn’t be joining us that I knew his reaction to him showing up would be priceless.

Sidebar: When Gregory found out that Mr. London wouldn’t be in Paris but would be in Toulon for practice, Gregory actually offered to drive to Toulon to pick him up when morning practice was over and then drive him back for evening practice. Keep in mind Toulon is two hours away, so while I would be running around getting everything sorted like a headless chicken, Gregory would be making two, four hour round trip drives so his boyfriend could be here for a few hours. Nice one Gregory. 

When we heard Gregory’s car outside, Mr. London tried to get into the kitchen to hide but he wasn’t quick enough, Gregory opened the door, saw Mr. London and froze, “Oh Bumder, you came” (exact quote). And while they both stood there, motionless, staring at each other from across the room with goofy smiles on their faces and the front door wide open, the dogs made a run for it.

And then Mrs. London’s and my Thanksgiving miracle occurred when the dogs were finally rounded up back into the house and we didn’t have to kill our husbands.