It’s Thanksgiving and I Have a New Job

This being the week of Thanksgiving, I have a new job—Pam’s Executive Assistant.

Here’s how we roll here at the Dunnevant house. 2022 is the year that we host the White family for Thanksgiving. In addition, Jon, Kaitlin and Jackson will be coming for several days. Patrick, Sarah and Frisco unfortunately will be Thanksgiving-ing in Nashville. This means that we will have somewhere between 12 and 14 souls here for the big meal.

My dear wife has taken the liberty of an entire week off from her day job to devote to this task. Why? A few reasons. First, she needs a break from sitting around a tiny table in a cramped room surrounded by phlegm-spewing elementary school students. Second, there is much to do to prepare for the festivities. If you have ever had the pleasure of attending a holiday get-together at my house you will know that Pam does it about as well as it is possible to do. She tends to the tiniest detail, leaves no stone unturned trying to make each day special. This is where I come in.

I am the sort of man who struggles with authority. Starting with my parents, then several unfortunate teachers, then professors, then bosses, I have consistently resisted taking orders. Ultimately all of this authority resistance resulted in me starting my own business. It suited my temperament. But there is one exception to this rule. I have never had a minute’s trouble completely submitting to my wife’s authority when it comes to the issue of…hospitality. The reason is simple. She is great at it. I have watched this woman plan and execute dinners, holiday parties and other special occasions for almost 40 years now. What I have learned over those years is that this woman is a beast who knows exactly what she is doing. In the early days of our marriage I might object to this order or that because it seemed..well…unnecessary or frivolous. Back in my ignorant days I might challenge her on one of her crazier requests.  Not any more. I have learned that if she wants something done a certain way at a certain time, there is a reason for it. When the results are consistently fabulous at some point you just shrug and say, “I’m all over it, sweetie.”

So, if she decides that since this year’s meal won’t begin until 4:00 it might be nice if we have all the outside Christmas lights put up so we can do a grand illumination after dinner, guess what I’m going to do? I’m putting up the lights. If she needs to clean bathrooms, vacuum the house, travel to Thailand to pick up some rare spice that she couldn’t find at Publix, I’ll get on a plane. The reason for my happy compliance to every request is simple—I know how great it will be, how much happiness and warmth she will be responsible for by the end of the day. And even though she does it all happily, I know what she really wishes she were doing…drinking hot chocolate while watching Hallmark movies with our daughter.