"The usual."
"What do you mean 'the usual?' That usually means some funny stuff."
"No fair! I've never done funny stuff for Thanksgiving dinner. The menu is fixed. No deviations allowed. Turkey, potatoes, veggies, cranberry sauce (jellied, not whole) and pie."
"What about the time you roasted a goose and tried to tell us it was 'jive turkey,' huh?"
"Still a bird," I countered weakly.
"Yeah, what about the time you put ginger in the cranberry and tried to hide it by turning out the lights? Or the time you stir-fried the sweet potatoes with shrimp and served them with prune sauce?"
"Ginger was on sale and a printer malfunction jumbled three recipes on one page. And, besides, the sweet potatoes were more weird than funny."
"And how about the time you ran out of eggs and used mustard instead of yokes in the Hollandaise sauce?"
"It was yellow, wasn't it? And tangy! OK, OK, uncle, I give up. Nothing funny this year. Just roasted turkey, traditional trimmings, no ginger, no curry powder in the egg nog. Promise."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, nothing funny. Zero funny, sir!"
(Later that morning ... )
"What smells so good?!?"
"I'm cooking a batch of sausage rolls. Flakey pastry wrapped around link sausages and baked to a golden brown. I even brushed the pastry with beaten egg to give it a glaze. Simply simplicity, I always say. Here, they're ready, try one."
"OK, don't mind if I do!"
(chomp)
"Hey, what's this I taste? There's something else in here you didn't tell me about! There's some funny stuff in here!"
"You said don't mess with dinner. You didn't say don't mess with the sausage rolls. I put in bacon and smoked Hatch green chilies."
There was a pause, longer than a comma, shorter than a colon.
"You know, these things are pretty good. No, better than good. They're really, really good! I hope you made a bunch because I'm diggin' me some green chili sausage rolls."
"Don't worry, I made plenty. And if you think those are good wait until you taste my twice-cooked garlic peppermint mashed potatoes!"
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