Holiday Blues? Read About This Memorable Dinner

Here is my story.

Like most of us, I am tired after a long week of doing mundane chores around the house, dealing with kids, neighbors, the weekends belong to my family and me. I like to lounge in my ugliest sweat pants, call or email family and friends and continue to do mundane chores. Lately, I have been feeling guilty about not having friends over for dinner. Especially, the one friend who calls mid-week to invite you over for dinner. Oh, nothing special, she says, just twice baked potatoes, beef tenderloin and asparagus with hollandaise sauce.

Holland in a day sauce, I am thinking. "Sure, we would love to come." I sheepishly reply, "Is there anything I can bring," knowing she will say, no.

Maybe some of you don't care about having friends over, especially the one true friend who invites you and your family over even when you don't reciprocate. I started out this way, but dang she kept inviting us. Why? I don't invite them over. Is she a better person than me? God, she's playing mind games with me. That's it, I am inviting them over.

I did not call mid-week, that would require planning ahead. I woke up one recent December Saturday morning to the sun blazing between the blind slants. I stretched, gave my familiar moose yawn and said out loud, " I think I will invite mini Martha and her family over for dinner.'

Step l. Call mini Martha. Sure, she would love to come. Oh, God, I thought she would say no, given it was a last minute invite.

Step 2. What to cook? Check fridge, pantry, play room, where my daughter stashes snacks. Not enough for 8 people.

Step 3. Ask for family's help. My husband and daughter are given a grocery list. We plan a simple barbecue, with baked potatoes, frozen peas, carrots, broccoli that I can splash some of that new olive based not butter, not spread, not margarine, good for heart stuff on the veggies. Pop the pot into the microwave and it is done. The meat we choose was already prepared in a package with bacon around it, how you say," fillet mignon." Best part of buying this expensive cut, was the sale.

Step 4. Finally Dinner, the real story behind those elite dinner parties
Our family includes two indoor dogs. I try, but sometimes the house smells, well, like dogs. No fabric refresher to spray, I boil cinnamon in water on the stove top.

My pre-teen tells me her friend is coming over to eat with us. No problem, yes a problem, the kid eats a ton. Fill her up with an extra potato loaded with butter.

My daughter and her friend, who would prefer to listen to their music, get into helping after a few threats and brides.
They start by setting the table. "Mom, there are not enough matching plates, bowls, utensils and by the way, the forks are all spotty." Her friend pipes in, "Where are your napkins?"

Napkins, spotted forks, not enough matching dishes, I can't take it! Silence and then laughter. This is our home and we don't have matching plates for 8 people. We decide to get into the spirit and make this a spoof on mini Martha and demonstrate the finer points in entertaining.

The girls take those yellow sticky note pads and write each guest's name in ink. They even made a place for a homeless person or whoever knocks at our door at dinner time, which happens, when you have lots of kids in the neighborhood.

Paper towels are torn in half and folded under each plate. We did not have enough towels to go around.

Plates are organized in a pattern. White one, followed by a patterned one.

Spots on the utensils are rubbed off.

Long stem candles, believe or not I did have, are placed on the dining room table. I am thankful for this new table because cramming guests at the kitchen table is a nightmare.

Guests arrive, late. My potatoes are shriveled, but doable.

Mini Martha brings a caesar salad, identical to mine. I feel honored, I choose the appropriate appetizer.

Martha and her hubby wander over to the table. It looks elegant from a distance. Then her ten year old son laughs and points out the yellow sticky name cards. The mood is set. Joyous fun with heart-filled belly laughs.

The men go outside to grill up the meat, beer in hand. Kids get into the pranks and put a carrot into the green beer bottle. I had no limes.

Meat is late. Hubby explains one of steaks fell on the ground, but they brushed it off.

The three kids scram over to the platter to pick their cut, and try to avoid the one that has dirt on it.

During dinner, the dogs stare from a distance and bark. Yells of shut up, go lay down, are useless. Finally, I don't know what possessed me, but I yell, BEEP, BEEP. You see, our dogs are on a wireless system that has been set up to include the dining room in the system's radius. If the dogs get too far a warning beep sounds and if they pass the safe zone they are given a mild, a very mild shock. I am a dog lover, so don't email me. I have had to deal with complaining neighbors who eventually would have called the dog pound. One of my dogs is a mini Houdini and constantly escapes. I digress again. The beep, beep worked. One problem, one kid kept wanting me to do the beep, beep thing again.

Main meal over. Dessert, oops none. We usually get a dish of ice cream, maybe throw in a cookie and voila dessert is made.

Husband's idea, not mine, as it is a fire hazard and I DO NOT RECOMMEND this dessert to any family.

The girls come to the table with tooth picks and mini marshmallows. They pluck a stale marshmallow, which I am saving for rice krispie squares, on to a tooth pick and start roasting over the candle flame.

Yeah, maybe hubby had more beer soaked carrots than I knew.

Candle light flickering with mini marshmallows dripping, dinner was a hit!

To end, I say don't sweat over having friends for dinner. True friends will enjoy your companionship, your goofiness, your uniqueness more than matching dinnerware. ( Next dinner, I think I will serve food on those decorated kid plates with the partitions, one section for meat, one section for potato, one section for........)