And a merry gobble gobble to you.

by Janie Jones

I have a brand new camera.

It was my congratulations-you-were-the-only-one-to-survive-18-months-of-Marcy present.

The bugger is, I am so used to having a useless piece of shit camera I keep forgetting to use it. Therefore, I have no photos of my day after Thanksgiving dinner.

I unfortunately was beset with a miserable migraine late on Wednesday that no amount of Extra Strength Tylenol could over come. As the spud was going to spend Turkey Day with her Da, I decided when I woke at 10:30 am to pee that I was more thankful for my warm comfy flannel and down comforter dressed bed than a Turkey Dinner I would make for just my self and Leif.

Leif, who would not emerge from his cave until almost 3 pm could wait until Friday. So I crawled back into my warm snuggly bed and went back to sleep.

I did get up in time to shovel the walks before Wade brought home the spud, and to partake of a slice of pre Thanksgiving Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie. Which I think is poisoned. I have had two pieces now, and both times I’ve gotten sick to my stomach. Which is a sin. I love S-R Pie. I always buy one from a bakery, as it generally turns out cheaper than buying fresh strawberries and rhubarb, and the local grocery had 9″ pies on sale for Thanksgiving for $4.44.

Still, once I recovered from the migraine, and the poisoned pie, it was a nice day after Thanksgiving, even if I did forget the photos.

Our dinner conversation included a toast to what we were thankful for, and the spud then wanted to have “cheers” with every sip of her sparkling grape juice. We also were regaled with the discussion of Turkey ‘anatomy.’

Spud: Oh, Momma is that the turkey!?!

Me: Yup.

Spud: It’s so big and delicious.

Me: Yup.

Spud: Is it dead?

Me: Well, yeah. You wouldn’t want to eat a living turkey.

Spud: So some one killed it.

Me: Yup.

Spud: They just grabbed it and *chopping motions* whack! Cut it’s head off and made it dead so we could eat it.

Me: Yup, that’s about it.

Spud: Girl turkeys don’t have feathers. They just fly. Boy turkeys have red things under their beaks ’cause they’re just boys.

Leif: Um, all turkeys have feathers.

Spud: No, just the boys.

Leif: Yes, they do.

Spud: They’re just birds.

Leif: Yeah, and birds have feathers.

Spud: No. Just boys.

Me: Honey, all turkeys have feathers, boys and girls, but the boys have fancier tail feathers. And they have waddles under their beaks, isn’t that what you mean?

Spud: The boys have all the different feathers that are bright and shiny.

Leif: How’s that turkey leg.

Spud: Good.

I have to go shovel snow again. I’m dreaming of a white Thanksgiving. Life is good. The air is dry and cold, the ground is covered in a pristine white blanket of snow, Thanksgiving was a day late, and I was nearly poisoned by a beautiful pie, but really, life is good.


One Comment to “And a merry gobble gobble to you.”

  1. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving.

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