Thanksgiving is good food with extra steps. I mean, why else would we travel 8 hours to Denver for a turkey!? Perhaps it tastes better up north in the bitter cold, where their thick coats of feathers keep them warm as they dance around in the snow.
But for me, the chilly wind feels like daggers piercing into my bald 5-month-old head.
After multiple attempts at consuming fistfuls of Mommy’s hair to stimulate hair growth, I finally gave up as the hair is pretty tough to swallow. I’ll just hibernate after the big meal.
Turkey, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, fresh rolls of bread, and dessert – these delicious creations crowded the serving station. We sat around the table respectfully giving thanks; I’m most thankful that they didn’t make me cook. I would’ve burnt them by accident. I eagerly waited for my plate as they passed the dishes around.
To my surprise, they only gave me a bowl of oatmeal with peas!
I did not travel so far just to have oatmeal! Give me a break–or break me a turkey leg! After much protest, my hunger overpowered my will. I gulped down the oatmeal while the rest of the family chow down their plateful of goodness.
Out of pity, Daddy snuck me a lick of the cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes.
Next time, I’ll have to do a better job of negotiating for the turkey before we travel to determine if it’s really worth it. Doesn’t it just taste like chicken?