Monday, November 29, 2010

A Tale for Thanksgiving

"Have I ever told you about my turkey story?"

It started innocently enough. The day after Thanksgiving, we were sitting on the couch digesting round two of turkey and pie. I can't remember what was on TV, but something triggered the memory to resurface in my husband's mind.

"Your turkey story?" I asked suspiciously.

I asked about some basic details before he began. Because, you guys, my husband has some stories, and many I prefer not to know. Mostly because I'm a delicate flower, but also because I'm not the best listener when it comes to certain stories. Let's just say that no one likes a dry-heaving lightweight. But this one seemed kosher based on the following:

Setting: Western New York, snowboarding some gorge (which was probably way dangerous but I'LL BITE MY TONGUE given the statute of limitations.)
Circa: 1997
Characters: Other hoodrat friends. [My terminology. Ahem.]

"Yeah, my turkey story," he said with a faint smile. A smile I interpreted as the kind one uses when reflecting upon fond memories.

"I don't believe you have, mister. Tell me."

"Well, it was me and like three other guys. We'd been snowboarding through the woods for a bit and had noticed this turkey. It would occasionally flutter by us and we noticed that it was flying kind of funny."

Here's where I get all warm and fuzzy with visions of my husband making a make-shift sling for the poor creature's wing out of soft pine branches and excavated frozen leaves, then transporting it back to his house where he made local headlines for his tender heart, ultimately gaining the attention of the White House, where he later presented the turkey to the President for a full pardon.



"Are you paying attention, wife?"

I snap out of my reverie to give him the thrill of recounting those details himself. "Yes! Keep going, my love." I link my arm into his devotedly.

"Well, after this happened a few times, we were finally able to come up on the thing and grab it."

So, "grab" is a bit menacing, don't you think? But I'm sure he's just putting a macho spin on the thing, right?

"And one of the guys takes it by the neck and rings it. Then we took it home, and man, that was some of the best turkey I'd ever tasted."

He looked over at me, content with our little story hour, but I didn't realize there was going to be a surprise ending, and was a bit stunned. But not so stunned that I couldn't muster the energy to FREAK OUT.

"Wait, WHAT?! You KILLED THE TURKEY? I thought you said it was flying funny? What was wrong with it? Why didn't you take it to the vet? And..."

"Wife. It was flying funny because it's leg was all messed up. You could tell he'd had a previous injury and it was all gangrene."

My eyes darted about as I ran through some scenarios in my mind. Surely he could have fashioned the poor turkey a set of crutches? MacGyver surely would've been able to use some saliva and sap to mix up a quick batch of magical ointment!

"Well, wait, YOU DIDN'T KILL IT DID YOU?" I unhooked my arm from his, feeling a wave of terror.

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "Of course not wife. One of the other guys did it. It was really their idea, but I'm telling you, that turkey tasted..."

"So, IN OTHER WORDS, you just stood there in a form of silent protest, RIGHT?"

He reply was rote. "Yes. Of course. I looked on with utter horror, wife."

I snuggled back up to him. "Of course you did. What else could you do?! I mean, any dissidence may have had you strung up next to the turkey with those sociopaths!"

"Wife."

*****

By the way, for those interested, the Oswald cake was a bit more successful than the cupcakes.



And while T9 was able to correctly identify the creature, he DID get a hint from Daddy before the quiz. Which was probably a good idea. No one likes the taste of mother's tears mixed in with their blue frosting.

23 comments:

  1. You are SOOOO not ready for a move down south

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  2. your link to the Oswald cake has a cheeky "page not found" to it. just saying.

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  3. the cake looks awesome!!! happy birthday T9 :)

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  4. Hahaha. That conversation was hilarious. You are too cute!

    The cake looks awesome, too BTW

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  5. Oh my gosh killed it and all the while I believed the turkey would be spared.But the cake looks delicious,this was perfect..the shape,color and it looks like Oswald,which is the point I know.
    BH

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  6. So who ate the gangrene turkey leg? ;)

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  7. I really, really want to get a set of turkey crutches. I don't know what I would do with them but I want them.

    Maybe I could make them into a spice rack or something.

    SD
    simpledudecomplexworld.blogspot.com

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  8. Did he ever say how that wild turkey tasted? Cuz we got a flock of those bad boys roaming our neighborhood, and I'm putting on my Neck-Wringin' Gloves.

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  9. Well, at least it was out of its misery. Not saying it was the right thing to do, but at least they ate it, unlike some folks who just like to kill stuff.

    You would SO not make it where you're moving.

    Like the cake though.
    Scratch

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  10. I love a bit of neck ringing when getting my Christmas Turkey, it's usually the neck of the old woman who has just rudely barged infront of me and is about to grab the last turkey of the size and type I want.

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  11. That cake is adorable.

    I wouldn't be horrified by the killing the turkey (sounds like a mercy killing to me)...but the thought of having to clean it...ugh

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  12. Sometimes it's really hard for me to wrap my mind around men. I mean really. Why couldn't they have made a "make-shift sling for the poor creature's wing out of soft pine branches and excavated frozen leaves, then transporting it back to his house where he made local headlines for his tender heart, ultimately gaining the attention of the White House, where he later presented the turkey to the President for a full pardon."

    Poor little turkey.

    Love the cake...*High Five*

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  13. I'm not sure gangrenous turkey actually sounds appetizing. Maybe it didn't taste good so much as toxins caused a euphoric state?

    Oswald is AWESOME! Now I want cake. Happy birthday to your octo-loving boy.

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  14. Good thing they didn't come across a limping house cat.

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  15. Kudos to you! That cake look fantastic!

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  16. Holy shnikes! The Oswald cake is uber-rad (yea, you heard me) And the next time I need poultry slaughtered, I'll be notifying your hubby :-)

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  17. I guess the rotting bear corpse they passed up before they wrung Tom's neck was too heavy for dinner? (Urp)

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  18. haha that reminds me of the time my grandma said to me "have I ever told you about what a great hunter I was" and proceeded to tell me how she would shoot birds and make stew out of them right on the spot, then get drunk and eat it with her buddies.

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  19. Dude...you wrung that cake's neck. Awesome sauce.

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  20. haha that reminds me of the time my grandma said to me "have I ever told you about what a great hunter I was" and proceeded to tell me how she would shoot birds and make stew out of them right on the spot, then get drunk and eat it with her buddies.

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  21. Dude...you wrung that cake's neck. Awesome sauce.

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  22. Well, at least it was out of its misery. Not saying it was the right thing to do, but at least they ate it, unlike some folks who just like to kill stuff.

    You would SO not make it where you're moving.

    Like the cake though.
    Scratch

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