Turkey: Love It or Leave It?

Do I have a choice? Really? I mean, how would my mother react if I informed her that from here on out we wouldn’t be eating turkey on Thanksgiving? Well, I’ll tell you. There’d be no initial response. There’d be a pause. Maybe a few minutes…maybe a few days. Then she’d suck her teeth, squinch up her left eye like she’d just sucked a lime and nod at me. This nod can clearly be interpreted as, “Oh okay. You wanna play like that? You wanna play like THAT?? Mm Hm. Okay, then.”

Then she’d leave. Upon her departure, the unease would creep in and wrap itself around my throat like one of those scratchy handmade scarves my Aunt Linda used to give me every year for Christmas. I’d try to shake off this unease. But it’d no doubt stick to me like stink. Around Halloween she’d probably start calling and leaving messages.

“April. I’m going to forget about your complete and total lapse of good sense last year and let you know that Thanksgiving will at MY house this year.”

I’d make a juvenile comment like, “Yeah, that’s what YOU think.”

A few days later she’d call back.

“April. I realize you’re trying to assert your faux sense of independence here, and I’ve had just about enough of it. Okay? Enough. Your Uncle Elmer will be here this year with his new lady friend and I don’t want you showing up again wearing your 12 year old sweatpants. Please. Enough of the shame.”

A quick glance at the calendar lets me know that in a week or so, I’m going to have to make a choice. To be or not to be a recipient of my mama’s last will and testament. Still. I’m holding strong to my No-Turkey stance. She hasn’t broken me down. Not yet.

Three days before Gobble Day, she leaves a Cruella Deville-ish message that flash-freezes my bone marrow.

“April. Now you hear this. You remember that time you got sick in the back of the station wagon on our way to Wyoming? And Daddy had the camera rolling? Remember? You were 16…had vomit all down the front of your shirt…in your hair. Yeah. Well, I have a YouTube account and my finger is hanging like a spider over the “Enter” key. If you’re not here by the time your Daddy says grace, it’s over with. You hear me? OVER WITH!”

So. Of course there’ll be turkey. I have a reputation to protect and defend and I’m not going out with puke on my shirt. I’m too cool for that.

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5 Responses

  1. What a great Plinky Prompt….I, for one, could care less about the turkey…it’s ALL about stuffing for me! And dessert…although this year, I was way too full to even consider it…there’s always breakfast tomorrow!

  2. Oh SHIT. ARE WE SISTERS?

  3. hahahaha
    “I don’t want you showing up again wearing your 12 year old sweatpants. Please. Enough of the shame”
    My mother cancels Thanksgiving every March, then spends the next eight months sighing over the phone and saying:
    “well dear-it’s just too much. It’s too much and you kids don’t care anyway.”
    Usually I offer to do it around August, and then my November she’s reigned in the control again.
    Same thing with Christmas.

  4. Your right; no turkey on Thanksgiving day would be insane. Turkey covered with gravy and placed calmly over rice. “Loved It”

  5. I don’t even like Turkey. I never have. I avoid it on Thanksgiving like the plague, and I always manage to “eat too much of everything else to even taste a bite, Grandma”. Every year, it never fails, I eat so much other stuff that I am almost about to vomit if it means I don’t have to eat Turkey or Shrimp. Eww… Shrimp. Why do we even have Shrimp at our Thanksgivings? Is that even NORMAL?

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