You Are a Gravy Boat.
This is it! Your big day. Your only day. You finally get to do what you’re meant for: helping people pour roasted bird drippings on other food. Are you ready? Do you think you can do this?
You don’t look like you think you can do this.
Let me remind you that nobody here has a job as important as yours. Gravy is integral to this meal. All year this family shies away from eating ground up animal organs mixed with flour and meat juices, but not today! Today they can’t get enough freaking gravy! They can’t get by without you!
Are you a platter? A napkin ring? A champagne flute? Are you a little crystal dish filled with crappy cranberry sauce that no one eats? No. What are you?
YOU ARE A GRAVY BOAT!
I know you’re comparing yourself to the water pitcher. But the water pitcher could just as easily be a sangria pitcher. Was the water pitcher created to pour just one thing? Is the water pitcher an heirloom? Can the water pitcher say it’s a serving utensil that is also a vehicle? You are a boat! A boat… on a table!
YOU HOLD GIBLETS AND YOU ARE MADE OF CHINA WITH A PLATINUM RIM AND YOU ARE A GRAVY BOAT!
We all know that inside you, along with giblets, you have the potential for greatness. We know that when you go out there you’ll be ready for anything. Uncle Lou could be holding you, talking all animated about composting then—wham!—someone mentions Sofia Vergara and he weakens his grip. But you’ll hold it together! You’ll keep your focus.
Or Marcy could try some new rub and the turkey’s too dry. You’ll be in demand even more. You could get awkwardly handed off to Grandma Elaine the vegetarian. You could hear “pass the gravy” from opposite sides of the table and have to know this family’s convoluted hierarchy to know which way you’re gonna get passed first.
YOU COULD GET STUCK TO A PAPER DOILY!
But you? You’ll proudly stand upon the stained rims of the gravy boats that came before you. You’ll think of contingencies. You’ll have a plan!
Remember how calm you were last year under pressure? Remember 12-year-old Charlotte, who wanted more than her share? You nipped that in the bud. You knew you had to make it all the way to the other end of the dining table—and there are two, count ’em, two extension leaves in that crazy thing. You didn’t get excited! You are a gravy boat, but you’re a cool gravy boat. You take it slow and make it last.
But not too slow! You won’t do that thing where you let out just a trickle of the good stuff, so the person pouring you tips you down and you lose your load in one dump. Remember your predecessor, Lawrence, who got a little too excited and doused Marcy’s sister-in-law with the whole load? Was it an accident Lawrence was found shattered and stuck in the basement behind the bulk boxes of Swiffer pads?
Let’s take a moment to remember Lawrence.
Point is, you’re not Lawrence! You’re a kick-ass gravy boat! You make innards look elegant and put water pitchers to shame! You persevere through being held mid-air during arguments about Chris Christie or Vincent Van Gogh! You make salt shakers jealous and only occasionally burn people’s hands on purpose!
Okay, the turkey’s resting and Marcy’s had a bit too much “cooking” chardonnay, so it looks like you’re on. Let me just tell you this one last time:
You are a vehicle.
You hold great potential, and also giblets.
You are the only one on this crazy table created for serving just one thing.
YOU ARE A GRAVY BOAT!
Now go out there and make this one memorable holiday! I think I can speak for all the utensils and dinnerware when I say we are thankful for you.
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