Dinner Guest #50 - The Turley Family

The worst house guest of all time, hands down, is Cousin Eddie from Christmas Vacation.  A few days before Christmas, Eddie, his wife, and two kids arrive uninvited to Clark Griswold’s (Chevy Chase) home in a beat-up RV, unleashing their trash-eating Rottweiler, and emptying sewage into the storm drain in the front yard. 

This Christmas, we spent a few days in Utah with my sister Kathryn, her husband Trey, and their three boys.  We didn’t pull up to their home in a hideous RV, or smoke cigars in their front yard wearing a robe, snow boots, and furry hunting hat, however, it seemed like we committed every other annoying house guest faux pas:

• One day into the visit, Jack and Rock came down with Strep Throat, exposing everyone to their fevers and coughing.
• Jack refused to take his cold medicine in the middle of the night and swatted the cherry red Nyquil syrup onto the borrowed sheets and air mattress.
• Jack threw up a melted orange cough drop and other mucus onto the recently ironed, white, guest room duvet and sheets.
• Kate happily played outside in the snow and tracked her muddy, wet boots through the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and into the basement.
• Rock had a random, massive bloody nose which dripped onto the living room carpet.

At least I was allowed to redeem ourselves somewhat by making Sunday dinner.  With no help from any cookbook, for the first time, I made Sunday dinner from memory.  I cooked Heavenly Chicken over Brazilian Rice, roasted green beans, roasted sweet potatoes with a honey/lemon glaze, parmesan rolls, and spinach salad.  For dessert, I baked a pre-made apple crisp in the oven and served it with vanilla ice cream. 

All the kids ate at the kitchen table while the parents gathered around the couch in the family room.  This Sunday dinner was unique because I was relaxed.  I didn’t have to be “ON.”  I didn’t feel any pressure to make polite conversation and ask those introductory questions like, “How did you two meet?”

I know how my sister met her husband.  I can tell that story myself.  I was at their wedding twenty two years ago.

While Kathryn and Trey could have reasonably asked us to leave with our sick, contagious children and our propensity to stain their carpets, instead, they brought out more blankets, checked the boys’ fevers, pumped up an extra air mattress, and even parked our rental car in their garage to keep the snow off. 

Christmas morning, Ryan and I scolded, begged, chided, and angrily whispered to our children to keep away from the presents Santa had brought the still-sleeping Turley family.  Tiptoeing through their quiet home, we gathered our kids into the rental car and boarded an airplane back to Las Vegas.  Around one in the afternoon, Kate, Jack, and Rock ran through our front door to see if Santa had visited our home too.  He did.

Later that night, Kathryn left a kind message on my phone, checking in with me to see how our Christmas turned out.  I was shocked to hear,

“Come back again… soon.”

Just love her.