Thoughts on Thanksgiving

I think I have created a fellow perfectionist. Frankie and I made Thanksgiving pies together and I don't know who was more upset when the bottom crust of the apple pie started to crack and we had to piece it back together. When it came time to put on the top crust, she kept up a steady chanting to encourage me: "You're doing it, Momsie. You're doing it! YOU DID IT!" Then we high-fived and moved on to the cranberry relish where she promptly stuck a scraper in the Cuisinart and I had to fish out blue plastic shards. For those of you who have visited my home and are thinking to yourselves that you have not seen baseboards covered in that much cat hair in other perfectionists' homes, I still maintain that I am one. I think my sub-par housekeeping is because I want it to be PERFECTLY clean and if it can only be straightened up, or done with a lick and a promise, I don't want to do it. Just go with me here. Let me believe that at heart I am orderly and my whites are very white.
We had Thanksgiving at my parents' house this year and our friends Brad and Cam joined us. Cam is the friend I wish I could have had when I was ten years old. We would have had such fun together, scheming up projects and driving our mothers crazy with hare-brained ideas involving a lot of glue sticks and sewing needles. I know this because Cam to this day becomes overjoyed and excited at the prospect of projects. "SASKIA!!!," she'll gasp with enthusiasm, "We need to DO THAT!" We've tried E-bay entrepreneurship, massive cleanings of our houses down to each individual crystal on her chandelier, marathon cooking projects, intensive closet reorganizing, etc. She is full of big plans for what Frankie and her son, Andrew, need to do, too: piano lessons, reading curriculum, and my personal favorite, ballroom dancing lessons. "Think how cute, SASKIA!" Yes, think how cute, and think what fodder for middle school bullies as Andrew rhumbas about the schoolyard! Luckily her husband puts the kibosh on some of these ideas. He lately had to squash her big plans to introduce Andrew to Barbies. But fortunately for Frankie, she was the proud recipient of two Barbies and one Ken doll. Concert Date Ken- the box says he comes with everything they'll need to have a good time. I am not kidding you. Please, allow your imagination to run wild. I checked his pockets when I took him out of the box. The other Barbie I found was JELLO FUN! Barbie, with a teency-weency cardboard Jello box clutched in her long tapered plastic fingers. Talk about odd cross-promotion. Why not team up for Hellmann's Mayonnaise Barbie and have her use it to add some moisture to her often rather dry locks? Or Lysol Barbie? But I forgave the merchandisers because of the sheer delightfulness of that teeny tiny Jello box.