What’s good for the Goose is good for the Gander

The holiday season is one of the best times of the year for me. It is a time when all the family comes together and shares in the festive spirit of the season. The one thing I enjoy the most, is waking up to the aroma of the different foods my mother is preparing. Although I have been awaken by the smell of food many times before, this time the distinctive savory smell indicates to me that the holiday is here. Realizing that the holiday is now upon us, it is this time of the year when the roaring dragon inside of my father comes out breathing his flames of despair. Not knowing how hot his flames are going to be, I cry to myself, what terrible disappointing embarrassing statement is he going to make this year?

For as long as I can remember, for every holiday, my mother always prepared the meals for my siblings and may have baked a side dish or a desert for my aunt’s. Each and every year her routine was the same. My mother would start out with first preparing her deserts. She would start with pies, oh how I love those sweet potato pies of hers, and continue on with her cakes. Of the cakes she prepared, the carrot cake was the one in which she took her time. When it is time for the carrot cake to be made, my mother becomes like a sculptor taking nothing and creating something that is truly divine. As I watch her bake the carrot cake year after year, it is always the same, as if all time stands still while she is preparing and mixing her ingredients. Once the carrot cake is finished, it is one of the most heavenly mouth watering experiences you could ever taste. After all the deserts have been made, my mother starts with side dishes, then the ham, and finally she lets the turkey cook on low over night so when she wakes a...

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... my mother in disbelief, my father cannot believe what my mother is saying. My mother continues on by stating, “what is good for the goose is good for the gander.” My father still looking bewildered, my mother explains her statement by saying, if she is to stop preparing the holiday meals than when my father invites his friends over for cards than they should bring their own foods, because she will not be in the kitchen cooking for them. Having his flames extinguished, my father sat down in his recliner and enjoyed the plate of food that my mother prepared for him.

Even though I was embarrassed by the performance of my father, I understood what he was trying to say. So during the next holiday season, we all took part in helping my mother in the kitchen but looming in my mind, what terrible disappointing embarrassing statement is my father going to make this year?