awful mess of things.
I know this to be true. Early in our marriage, Jeff worked retail management. We always made a point of making certain that none of his “kids” were alone for the holidays. The Thanksgiving in question involved a poor, lonely, away-from-home employee and his brother. The day was FRAUGHT with assumptions and it was truly a M.E.S.S.
When inviting Kevin, we told him what time we wanted to eat dinner. Assumption number one: that he would arrive within a reasonable semblance of the time we had planned. When dinner had been sitting – staying warm – for 3 hours, we went ahead and ate without them. As soon as we sat down, they arrived….well, kind of. Kevin arrived.
We welcomed Kevin and offered him some dinner. Kevin took one look at the turkey and said, “Oh, you’re eating TURKEY? I don’t eat turkey. I’m a vegetarian.” Ahhh, assumption number two, that most Americans know the meal generally served for Thanksgiving involves some form of poultry… or at the very least some kind of meat.
Okay, so now I have my dinner getting cold on the plate while I’m standing in my kitchen frantically trying to figure out what I can offer this young vegetarian to eat. (He didn’t like mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes or peas and pearl onions, either.) Hmmm, looks like Tomato soup was his best option. I offer it. He declines. At this point, he pulls a large bottle of wine – half empty – from his coat and says, “Hey, I can just drink this.” Assumption number three, guests invited to dinner generally eat some measure of food offered by the hostess, followed quickly by assumption number four, dinner guests arrive sober.
About this time, the phone rings, it’s the expected brother – he is calling to say he’s on his way. With four of his friends. I ask if they’re vegetarian too. They are not. I begin to heat food up, as I was soon to have guests here to eat – 5 of them. Here comes assumption number five, people who are guests at the home of someone they have never met do not arrive with four other people without asking first.
Our apartment was in a large (read: HUGE) old Victorian home a block from downtown. The view from our back windows was a beautiful vista of the river, the dam, the other Victorian estates in that area and the parking area, next door, which was guarded by Lurch.
He was pushing 7 feet tall (I kid you not!) He did not speak much – other than, “Youz cant park dere” grunts and snarls were about all we ever heard from him, until this particular day. He lived in this tiny apartment above the home next door. He was their grounds keeper and I assure you, he kept their grounds clear. Clear of anyone who might want to park anywhere other than their assigned place, in particular. If you so much as had one tire on his “grounds” he’d show up at your door and make you repark the vehicle.
Our guests parked in front of his door. Lurch came barreling out to tell them to move. They began to argue with him….loudly and explicitly. He told them again, “Move youz car or else.” They laughed at him, they made fun of him and they left their car where it was.
Kevin’s brother and his five friends came charging into our house talking about the smell of food and how hungry they were. I showed them to the kitchen, where they began to eat. Assumption number six. Young adult men (they were all in their mid 20’s) know how to eat a meal employing silverware, on plates and using serving utensils.
These guys were grabbing food like pigs at a trough – they were licking the serving utensils, eating with their fingers (handfuls of mashed potatoes!!!???) and shoveling food like they hadn’t eaten in months. I found out later that they were challenging assumption number seven. Guests do not come for dinner after having smoked marijuana prior to said arrival . (Jeff had to explain to me why they were eating like lunatics. I was too naive to get that one on my own.)
While the guys were shoveling food left and right – literally – there was a knock at the door. It was Lurch. He was towering over my door to tell us that the police were coming to tow the car of our guests. Suddenly my house was like some form of Looney Tunes performance.
Plates were dropped where guys previously stood. Within seconds, there were globs of food crammed in, via hand, and they were all gone. POOF! Kevin, his brother (never learned his name) and all four of Kevin’s brother’s friends – gone. No good byes. No thank yous. Nothing. Just G.O.N.E. Next assumption – guests generally make some effort to exit with tact and without mashed potatoes on their hands.
So, here I sat, still hadn’t had a hot meal – and all the food had had fingers, hands and licked utensils in it. I threw it all away. Assumption number ten – don’t count on left overs as another meal when you’re inviting guests to Thanksgiving.
I share this with you, because due to my assumptions of that day, I had a horrible Thanksgiving. I was so depressed, so disappointed and utterly frustrated. BUT, it was MY fault. I knew that Kevin drank. I had heard him talking about it many times. I had even smelled dope on him when he’d come by the store to pick up his paycheck before. This was no surprise to me, so why did it throw me for such a horrible loop?!! Because I had allowed my assumptions, my expectations, to rule my heart.
I find that this is STILL the same thing I am wont to do when it comes to holidays. I have an assumption of how I want it to go, how I want it to play out, what I want it to happen – and when it comes crashing down around my ears I’m depressed, disappointed and frustrated. Silly me.
A few years ago, knowing that our money was very tight, I decided to ask the children what the MOST important holiday traditions were to each of them, so I could have a good idea of where to put my efforts. What they shared with me was such a surprise. None of the big time demand things were any big deal to them. They just cost me energy, sanity, money and time. I eliminated them. I would never have known I could do that, unless I had gone to them and asked them. (This was also the beginning of the end of our exchanging gifts with one another.)
As women, in particular, we MUST guard our hearts to keep them from making unrealistic assumptions, feeding our expectations with the perfection presented by the media. The media – whether its Oprah or Martha or even Rachael – aren’t homeschooling their children. They aren’t running a home with more than 2 people in it. They likely aren’t doing their own cleaning. They likely aren’t doing their own laundry. Most of all, they aren’t trying to do it with the same focus we are to have.
While those things may look breathtaking and tempt us to attempt to pull off some of their tricks, we must keep our focus clearly before us and we must weigh each temptation against its cost. “Yes, I CAN make this lovely cream puff mound with caramel glaze and sugar crystals, but if I do, what will the cost be?” Sometimes that cost is financial, sometimes its mental and sometimes its relational. Either way, there is a cost. What are we willing to pay for appeasing our assumptions?
Oh, by the way, assumption number eleven from our memorable Thanksgiving dinner. If you are wanted for selling cocaine in Chicago, don’t mess with Lurch. 
