Flowers That Talk – Making my own corn bread stuffin


I’ve talked in the past about parenting being the most competitive sport I’ve ever played.  I remember the day I quit the team; it was right before Thanksgiving 2004.


I was talking with a friend who is a super-mom.  She volunteers at the school, church, cleans her own house, makes sure her kids are well groomed and dressed.  I’m lucky if mine have socks that match as they head out the door…bad example, I don’t really care about that…I’m lucky if they have shoes that match.  My friend takes great pride in her accomplishments.  And if I was half as good as she, I would be proud of myself as well.


We were discussing our Thanksgiving plans.  In our short conversation, we discussed that we would both be home with our families, both had company coming and both were preparing the meal.  Since this is the one meal that I DO pride myself on getting to the table on time and in order, I played along in the conversation.  Let the competition begin!

Friend asks, “Do you have a fresh, organic Turkey?”  Yep, I reply.

“Do you serve fresh cranberry sauce?”  Yes, I say, muttering under my breath, fresh from the can.    At least I get the can with the chunks of cranberries.  I only get this type because the jelly one  – you know the one – the one that leaves can indentations when the cylinder-shape goo makes a vacuum suck as it’s leaving the can and hits the plate with a splat?  Those indentations are a dead give-away you didn’t make it yourself.

“Do you make a green bean casserole?”  Well, of course, my beans are in the freezer and cans of cream of mushroom soup and fried onions await!

“Do you make a sweet potato casseroles?  Yes, I do!  I make the same over-the-top concoction every year:  One part sweet potato, one part butter, one part marshmallow, and one part brown sugar.

“Do you make stuffing? ” Yes, I do, I actually do!  Yes, I can play on the team – at least for the stuffing inning.  I’m proud of my stuffing; it was passed down to me from my dad with my own variation added over the years. 

I could tell, she too, took pride in her stuffing.  She dwells deeper.  She says, “Do you make cornbread stuffing.”  Yes, I do – using Pepperidge Farm as my base.


 “Do you make you own cornbread to go into your stuffing?”  What? Who does THAT?  So I lie and say, “Yes, I do.”

A long silence follows.  She says, “You make your own cornbread for the stuffing?  Yes, I lie again, I do.  I felt ashamed.  I felt I needed to compete.  This was when I realized, I wasn’t any good at the game.


God bless her, she makes her own fresh cranberry sauce, perfectly browns a fresh organic Turkey, probably grows her own french beans for her casserole, and makes America’s best sweet potato casserole and yes, she makes her own cornbread before she makes her own cornbread stuffing.  She WINS!


I knew then, I couldn’t compete.  More often than not, now when I show up somewhere with food, I just say, “I bought it myself!”


Happy Thanksgiving from my flowers to yours!


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