Thanksgiving morning. When all the normal people are doing all those last-minute things to get their big dinners ready, and visiting with family members, and running the sweeper, etc.

I’m going to run the sweeper in a few minutes, honest I am. Visiting family members might not be as tolerant as we are, if they hear their footsteps crunch. In the living room. So I plan to take care of that.

You know, like normal people do.

I wonder, though, if a normal person would be sitting here blogging while the egg noodles boil down to a thick paste, forcing this person to serve bow-ties and cheese in front of PEOPLE.

I don’t know what a normal person would do because I’ve never been one. Have you?

And I always fix noodles and cheese along with all the regular Thanksgiving fare because my daughter (the most beautiful young woman in the world, by the way) pretty much lived on macaroni and cheese for a few years back in grade school. Oh, I tried to get her to maintain life by eating other things, but I met with great opposition from her. So no matter what kind of big meal she sat down to, there must always be macaroni and cheese. And for Thanksgiving she would eat noodles and cheese. Because noodles and cheese is DIFFERENT from macaroni and cheese. Um, yes.

So anyway, noodles and cheese is part of our traditional Thanksgiving meal now.

Today, she’s going to eat bow-tie pasta and cheese, because of that little business of her mother sitting here blogging and letting the noodles boil down to unrecognizable mush.

Actually, the mush is somewhat recognizable. It looks like a pile of boiled hair. And while I might throw a pile of boiled hair into the homemade cheese sauce for just us, I can’t do that when PEOPLE are dining here.

Besides, isn’t pasta pretty much the same thing, regardless of shape? I guess we’ll find out, and soon, too.

Probably nobody will notice.

I guess I’d better go back to the kitchen though, before the bow-ties cook down to a pile of boiled hair. The only other kind of pasta in the house is spaghetti, and I think PEOPLE would notice a casserole dish of spaghetti and cheese. We probably wouldn’t, but those PEOPLE would.

Okay, I’m leaving now and morphing into a normal mom-type person who keeps a close eye on the cooking food.

Normal. Heh.