Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Our Thanksgiving Turkey, the Partial Nudist

My Thanksgiving column:

As I write this I still have a turkey to cook, potatoes to mash, and pies to bake.  In fact, aforementioned turkey is still frozen, waiting to be brined—whatever that is.  But by the time you read this, it’ll all be over, and Thanksgiving 2013 will be one more tryptophan-induced coma of the past.

However, as long as y’all are still eating turkey leftovers, I think Thanksgiving is fair game, column-wise. So here goes…

I have big Thanksgiving plans, all secured via Pinterest—the one place women willingly go to feel dwarfed by the domestic goddesses of the Internet.  Okay, so maybe that’s just me.

I’m no Betty Crocker, and if you’ve read this column, say, twice, you already know that.  I simply aspire to keep my home out of the biohazard zone, so expectations are low around here, even for Thanksgiving.  Still, I make my cranberry sauce from scratch and follow Pioneer Woman’s pie recipes like instructions for bomb diffusion.  Because if there’s a margin for error, I’ll find it and work it like a rock star.

Our fully dressed turkey
So it may not surprise you that with my stack full of Thanksgiving recipes, I’m most excited about putting a tinfoil bikini on the turkey so, upon serving, she’ll flash a summer tan line that’ll make everyone laugh.  And that just may be enough to compensate for dry and tasteless turkey meat.  Maybe.

Unfortunately I shared my genius plan with the one child who is least aware of appropriate topics for public consumption. He told his Sunday School teachers.

Apparently when asked what truly remarkable thing was being planned for the holidays, he said he only knew about the cross-dressing turkey his mom was prepping.  Now imagine how that sounds coming from a 9-year old mouth.  Yes, we’re on CPS watch until Thanksgiving has passed.

About the same time I heard of my child’s turkey-bikini confession, another church leader asked me how in the world my daughter knew the word “nudist.”

“Whaaaa?”  was my articulate response.   

The woman explained, “After one child explained that a turkey must be plucked and cooked naked, your daughter was quick to say, ‘Then the turkey’s a nudist!’”  

Tanned turkey with an unfortunate
(or fortunate, depending on how you look at it)
placement of the timer.
She paused, and may have even sighed.  “Your kids are just so full of personality!”  Which I believe is code for, “What kind of ship are you Belyoaks running over there?”

Just so we’re clear, our turkey will be both clothed and naked at our festivities, which may mean that our main dish is a stripper, technically speaking.  But I don’t really want to think about that right now.   There are too many other things to worry about over here.

Important stuff like will a 20-pound turkey feed 12 people, can you stream the Macy’s Day Parade over the Internet, and how DID my daughter know the word ‘nudist’? 

P.S. If we’re friends on FaceBook, you know I totally smoked out my kitchen with one Pioneer-Woman pecan pie.  Because I rocked that margin of error, that’s why.

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