“Can we please host Thanksgiving dinner?”

This is how I wanted to respond to my 11-year-old daughter, “Not if I can help it,” since I hated cooking, cleaning, and anything related to hosting a dinner for 20 people. If I’m being totally honest about my feelings–going over to my sister’s house sounded much more appealing. But I knew that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Instead I responded like any mom would who is hoping to avoid a debate that could rival an experienced lawyer.

“Maybe.”
“YES!” My daughter screamed as she balled up her fist, moving it in a downward motion like she just won the lottery.
“Why are you excited and responding yes?”
“Because ‘maybe’ always ends up being yes.”

She had me there, usually her lawyer-level debate skills ended up turning my maybes into a yes.

“It isn’t a yes yet. Now go get ready for school.”

Over the next week, I made a long list of all the reasons why going to Auntie’s house for Thanksgiving would be far superior then hosting at our house in preparation for our upcoming debate. And just when I thought I was ready, I won a turkey from a contest at the YMCA. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that my daughter somehow rigged the contest to make sure I won.

“Guess who won a turkey?”
“YES!” Again my daughter screamed as she balled up her fist, moving it in a downward motion like she just won the lottery.
“There you go saying yes again. You didn’t even guess who.”
“I can tell that you won, and that means we are going to host Thanksgiving.”

In addition to being a lawyer, it seemed like she may have some psychic abilities.

“Why do you want to host so badly anyway?”
“I want to decorate the house, bake, and have everyone here.”

Sure, that’s easy for her to say. She didn’t have to go to the grocery store, clean the entire house, and spend days cooking and baking. Or did she? If she wanted this so badly, it only makes sense that she completes all of the tasks involved in hosting.

“Ok, but you are going to have to grocery shop, clean, and help me every step of the way.”
“YES!” Again my daughter screamed as she balled up her fist, moving it in a downward motion like she just won the lottery.

Clearly, she had no idea what she was in for. I couldn’t help but think of those poor turkeys that also had no idea what they were in for either.

At the crowded grocery store, I felt frustrated trying to make my way over to the aisle with the cranberries. My young Padawan was unfazed as she strolled along with a perpetual smile as if she was in Disney World. Come to think of it, there were some parallels, like the mobs of people and overabundance of food, but it was lacking in people wishing you to have a magical day.

During the cleaning of our house, my daughter maintained a sunny disposition. She even played music and danced as she did it. The song “Whistle While You Work” popped into my head, and again, I was reminded of Disney World. Maybe my daughter is going to be a Disney character one day. She will have a plethora of jobs to choose from given all her abilities to adapt.

And then when I didn’t think it was possible to be any happier, she looked the most elated to cook and bake.

When the big day came and we were all seated around the table, I thought about all the preparations. My daughter never complained and maintained a smile even when she did the less appealing things, like taking out the garbage or cleaning the dirty dishes. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I might even go as far as to say it was fun to host. The best part was spending time with her and realizing that something I thought was tedious could be entertaining.

“Mom, can we host Christmas?”

Even though I enjoyed hosting, I thought we were getting a little ahead of ourselves by discussing this before dinner was over.

“Maybe.”
“YES!” Again my daughter screamed as she balled up her fist, moving it in a downward motion like she just won the lottery.

Looks like we will be hosting Christmas too.