The evening before Thanksgiving dinner means peeling potatoes.
At least for me.
Somehow I am the “mashed potato expert” who has the job of bringing
pounds of mashed potatoes to the family gathering.

One of the potatoes in the 20 pound bag (how does a 20 pound bag
of potatoes cost less than a latte?) was wet.
I thought that was a bit odd since the bag has been sitting on a dry
porch.
Peeling the potato revealed that it had no center — just a home for
white grubs chewing away.

Needless to say, that potato did not make it into the mashed potatoes.