When my granny prepared for a big cooking event, such as holiday cooking, she always said, “Well, I’m getting ready to put the big pot in the little one.” I can’t say that I paid that much attention to those words, because I was just a kid running around the yard chasing my cousins or being chased. Times have changed, and I find that I now wonder how I can fit the big pot in the little one?

The last few years I’ve skated through the holiday cooking chores by offering my husband’s expertise with the smoker, and I tried that again for this year. Yes, I did try to outwit the call I received from the number one son. You see he inquired as to what we were planning to cook for Thanksgiving. I smartly replied, “Oh, I think your daddy will smoke a couple of Boston Butts.” I was thinking that I could just purchase sandwich buns and chips to make a fantastic Thanksgiving meal allowing little or no trouble for me, the overburdened momma.

But, he’s getting too smart for me … because his reply was, “I want a traditional Thanksgiving meal.” He didn’t even say please.

“What?” I jerked my head around as shock spilled all across my usually pleasant countenance. “Are you sure?” I blundered. I mean I wasn’t prepared for this request. Yes, I know that I’m a good cook, but that’s mainly because I’m an excellent eater. I can’t always trick my husband into doing all of the cooking.

As I stumbled around trying to get a visual of me preparing the pecan pies (my granny’s original recipe – only they’ve never had the same wonderful taste) and a big pan of baked turkey and dressing (I prefer chicken and dressing) again, a recipe from the most wonderful cook in the world, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Jewel McKee, whom I’m certain prepares all of her wonderful dishes for St Peter and the crew beyond the Pearly Gates. Yes, that would be Heaven. Oh, and I can’t forget to prepare my mother’s Perfectly Pink Congealed Salad – a holiday meal must.

Whew! I’m getting a sweat just thinking about all of the work.

Suddenly my brain burst forth with the answer. Yes, this would put a stop to the whole Momma-Anne-Overworked-at-Thanksgiving theme. I sweetly inquired, “I thought you were eating Thanksgiving lunch with your in-law’s?” He said, “Yes.”

A-ha – I had him. I had him for sure. “Well then,” I continued, “That’s two-o-o traditional Thanksgiving meals in a row – are you sure you want that?” Without hesitation, he answered with a flat and resounding, “Yes.”

So today I’ve searched my cabinets for all of the old recipes. Yes, I had put them away as I was content with KFC and those cute $5.00 pizzas. I even reacquainted myself with the grocery as I stopped by for an unannounced visit. I mean do you have to call first? I couldn’t remember.

I meandered toward the meat department and patted a baking hen on the rump just to get the feel of it and to check the price. Wow! The price is up and the size is smaller than I remembered. I wandered over to the nut section and pondered if I should put a big bag of pecans on the layaway plan – Good Grief!

I continued the tour of the grocery. It’s been a while, but I soon learned – not long enough. In the meat department, I noticed that sitting out in the middle of the aisle was a table of hamburger buns, potatoes to bake, and chips. There was even some barbeque charcoal sitting nearby. What’s going on?

As I swung through produce, I suddenly had the sensation of a rain shower. I’m not kidding, I felt as if I was in a fine mist of rain and the wet stuff settled in my over-sprayed hair-do. Oh my, was that a rumble of thunder? Wait a minute, that was just my squeaky- squawky cart rumbling along, but the wet stuff? It was real. That’s when I realized that there were special effects in the produce department — I was real-l-ly out of touch with grocery shopping.

I decided that I better make a run for it. I mustn’t get too saturated with grocery-store-itis right here in October. Yes, I hopped in my van and made a beeline for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Now, that’s more like it.

Once I downed the 535-calorie lunch offering, I felt a tiny bit better. However, the Thanksgiving meal images were really getting me into a fizz, and that’s when number two son called. “Momma,” he said, “we want you and daddy to come over for Thanksgiving with us.” I’m proud to say that he’s the new McKee cook in the family. He continued, “We’re cooking your chicken and dressing recipe (of course, that’s his Momma Kee’s recipe) and we’ll probably have extra for y’all to take home.”

Hmm, extra — I’m thinking it over. Should I?

Oh, okay. Yes, you’re right. Duty calls and a momma must answer especially when it’s putting the big pot in the little one. Yes, I plan to rest up for a couple of weeks and probably make my final Thanksgiving meal plans as I enjoy an order of boneless barbeque wings or the buy-one-and-get-one-free Tuesday night meal over at the Mexican place. Yes, I will put my plans together, and I will live through this, at least until Christmas.

It’s not everyday that one is allowed to put the big pot in the little one. No, not everyday, but one day a year is enough for me.