Jeff Wysaski
In a move that severely disheartened dinner host Kate Krieger at this year’s annual Thanksgiving dinner, the decorative autumn centerpiece she had placed in the middle of the table was unceremoniously removed prior to the meal in order to make room for a wooden basket of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.
The move was reluctantly made by Ms. Krieger after numerous attempts to rearrange the other food items on the table proved unsuccessful in yielding adequate table space for the all-important crescent rolls.
Upon hearing the decision, family members reacted by feigning disappointment and paying lip service to Ms. Krieger’s repeated statements of, “Oh well,” and “That’s too bad.”
Despite this half-hearted support, family members managed to maintain their seamless passage of food items from one person to the next throughout the entire ordeal.
Sources close to the dinner host report that the centerpiece – which consisted of a cornucopia lovingly filled with an arrangement of pinecones, leaves and fall plastic fruit – was handmade by Ms. Krieger herself. Ms. Krieger would later confirm that the centerpiece took “the whole morning” to complete.
Though not ideal, dinner guests unanimously agreed that having the crescent rolls within easy reach took precedence over the trivial boost in holiday ambiance that the centerpiece provided. As Cousin Gary explains, “Is it a shame? I guess. But I’m not getting up from my seat to walk into the kitchen every time I want to eat another crescent roll.”
Suggestions by Ms. Krieger to load two or three crescent rolls onto each guest’s plate at the beginning of the meal were immediately dismissed as an uneconomical usage of plate real estate.
Witnesses to the event noted that Ms. Krieger was clearly mildly upset by the dismissal of the centerpiece for a good three to four seconds. However, after making a slight frown and glancing longingly a couple times at the fireplace mantle – where the centerpiece had been exiled to – Ms. Krieger turned her attention to the heaping pile of candied yams on her plate and reportedly, “forgot all about it.”
Despite reassurances that the centerpiece would be returned to its rightful place on the table for the dessert portion of the meal, the cornucopia remained forgotten on the mantle for the rest of the evening.
Upon finding the centerpiece the next morning, Ms. Krieger quietly packed the decoration away into a box and placed it in a corner of the attic. Though the homemaker voiced intentions to display the centerpiece again next year, experts agree that the box will probably gather dust for a couple of years before being rediscovered during an especially intensive bout of spring cleaning.
After the centerpiece fails to sell at a garage sale, it will undoubtedly be discarded into the trashcan and rolled out to the curb for final disposal.