Thanksgiving Day War Stories

All of us have our most memorable Thanksgiving Day experiences and we all love to share and swap war stories. These experiences can run the gamut from horrible food served to the aunt you would see only once per year that would smother you by pulling your face into her enormous bosom and hold you there. This does not sound that bad but besides being 73 years old and asphyxiating you she also smelled like old socks or sometimes much worse. Well so much for scented adult diapers killing odor.

I fondly remember my father being wholly incompetent in so many endeavors. TDay of course would have the traditional NFL football game always featuring the Detroit Lions televised. My father being the fanatical zealot he was with any sports he viewed, would always get so incredibly worked up watching the game that his incessant screaming that registered in the 120 decibel range, not only shook the house but caused cakes to fall. He also would slam doors and throw my youngest bother at the TV when extremely agitated. My brother hates TV to this day and it has nothing to do with it’s programming. Frequent intimate facial contact with the TV screen does that to one. My father would have to grab him by the feet and pull him away from the TV to disconnect his lips with had become sealed to the glass. Then my father would smack him for having messed the screen up with his drooling from being half catatonic from the event.

After working himself up into such a frenzy, with his carotids protruding from his neck and head ready to burst, my mother would ask him to carve the turkey. This is akin to giving Norman Bates a machete to perform the same task when he was psychologically shifted in to the personality of his crazed, murderous bitch of a mother. This was the cue for my siblings and I to hide in a place you could not be found. I personally choose a galvanized tub I could chain down on top of me which I knew could deflect the knife. Needless to say after the carving was done, there was more turkey on the walls and floor and on him then on the platter. Good old dad. I miss him so, NOT.

I fondly remember on Thanksgiving when my girlfriend had purchased a turkey as was in the midst of preparing it. I was in another room with the door closed when my olfactory senses were assaulted by a smell so heinous I got queasy on the spot. There is nothing quite like the smell of decaying, rotting flesh to stimulate that appetite. Gathering my internal fortitude, I venture out the door and down the hall to the kitchen where I was brought to my knees by the smell. Being the courteous and gentle being that I am I inquired to my girlfriend that was in the midst of washing the turkey, “What the HELL is the horrible smell?” As I approached the sink the odor intensified and I looked at the turkey. It obviously had been in a state of deterioration before it was frozen. Skin had rotted off in placed. The flesh was an unhealthy whitish color with dark spots. The fluid leaking from the turkey was horrid in smell. She had figured she could wash that rot right off that turkey. I had to point out to her the turkey was a complete bust unless of course we placed ectrotrodes into it’s neck and supplied enough electricity to bring it back to a semblance of life. Not many people are aware that Dr. Frankenstein began his early experiments with turkeys much to his wife’s dismay. Nothing like having gutted, cleaned turkey’s that had just been roasted to a delicious golden brown running around the castle on nubby legs unable to be captured.

Then there is my sister’s ability to take the tasty and tender flesh of a fowl and render it into a substance that resembled the saw dust found on the floor of any shop class room. The spectacle of seeing one of these turkeys carved is amazing. They just disintegrate. One must take mayo and attempt to use it as a glue substitute to try to piece a slice cut for you back together. I got smart after a while and would just add water to mine and it would expand much like dehydrated food. Not to hurt my sister’s feelings I would pretend to eat a couple pieces but would feed them to the dogs stealthily. It never dawned on her why every T-Day her dogs would end up at the vets with food poisoning and a stomach pumping. Actually I would save some and use it with glue as wood filler.

One year I had a girlfriend, of course an organic health nut, purchased an organic turkey which weighed 9 pounds and cost us 60 plus dollars. Upon finding this out, I did pass out. We were to feed 4 people with this. Fortunately 2 were 80 + in age and could only eat Gerber’s baby food which was liquefied turkey. I actually have seen chickens larger then this full grown turkey. There is satisfaction in knowing I am consuming a turkey that could suffer from 1235 different diseases due to the fact any foreign substance pumped into its system negates the “Organic” claim. Needless to say I tried to enjoy my turkey that had rickets before it was killed and found its way to our pot. I weighed the amount of meat we got from the turkey and it was 6.78 oz. Well no sandwiches to look for with that damn bird. He was also so tough I was able to keep a leg and I use it as a mallet to this day for driving 6 penny nails into wood. I figured eating that healthy turkey took 2 years OFF my life!

It would nice to hear all the wondrous