Gratitude turns what we have into enough. ~ Melody Beattie
It was just going to be the four of us for Thanksgiving this year and iKeith was going to smoke a turkey again and he hates leftover turkey.
I happen to LOVE leftover turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce on white bread. YUM!
I went to the store on a Sunday afternoon which is ill advised. It's the church crowd all dressed up and smelling like mothballs.
There were numerous older gentlemen standing around the frozen turkeys, painstakingly looking at lists which I'm sure had very detailed instructions on them. I don't even want to think about what happens if they bring home the wrong turkey!
I really didn't want a frozen turkey. I'm not afraid to spend a little bit a cash on my turkey to get a fresh bird. Which is obvious by the amount I paid for last years organic, happily raised, gently killed health food store turkey.
See...two years ago, I tried to embrace my inner tree hugger and then I realized that bitch is crazy!
Bygones.
I was looking for a 10 pound turkey and I didn't care how it was raised. And I was in a hurry to get out of the store with my extremely full cart.
The closest I found was a 7 pound fresh bird for $18. SOLD!
Fast forward to Wednesday night when Keith was preparing his brine. I was enjoying a little Charlie Brown and Cabernet. Keith came over to the couch and informed me that our turkey was missing a few things.
Things like wings, legs and a heart!
I ran to the kitchen because I had to see this for myself and I had to avert my eyes. It was so terrible that I decided against sharing a picture of this sad, sad bird. There are no words to describe it.
Our turkey was a quadruple amputee!
I was puzzled and my husband was concerned that I've been hitting the bottle a little too much. I mean, how else does a Martha Stewart wanna-be like myself come home with a turkey like this. I went through the stages of grief pretty quickly, especially when our daughter disolved into tears because all she wanted for Thanksgiving was a turkey leg.
Being the amazing father that he is....Keith ran to the store to search for turkey extremities! It was much like running to the store on Christmas Eve looking for a Tickle Me Elmo.
He came home with two thighs and 20 little turkey drumettes.
And now we had a
FrankenTurkey!
Yesterday, we could laugh about it. I decided it really is true. God never gives you more than you can handle. My sister pointed out that I should be careful who I share this story with because some people might say we are racist because our turkey only had white meat!
A Republican Thanksgiving?
Say it isn't so!
Disclaimer: I do not mean to offend quadruple amputees, real racists, liberals and tin men everywhere. I also mean no harm to old people and controlling old bitties that make lists and beat their husbands. My apologies to Martha Stewart and blondes for making them look bad on Thanksgiving.
And a big thank you to God....for not giving me more turkey than we could handle!
Amen!
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I told them...if any one of you looks at the camera, NO PIE FOR YOU! |