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That's a really long time to sit on a turkey

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Thanksgiving so far....


I took the boys to a little amusement park place yesterday with my friend Debi and her kids.  And the kids played and we moms sat there and talked for so long that I could feel myself getting tired and more tired.  And I yawned a lot and then I remembered that I forgot to eat.  Which for me is bad news because I have some extreme moody reactions to fasting.  Even for a few hours.  And I'm sure I nodded a lot to whatever Debi said to me there toward the end, to look like I was really listening.  But she's a nurse and I place all confidence that she could save me come what may. 

Here's part of our conversation that I remember:

Us:  random chatter about our kids, other people's kids, and mostly other people's bad kids. 

Her:  I hate you right now

Me:  silence.  Waiting to hear why she hates me right now.  But I felt a small heart palpitation thinking that she met me at the go kart place to break up with me and not be my friend anymore because I ignored her ever so kind invitation for a recent road trip to Natchez.

Her:  I hate it because the kids act like crazy teenage zombies and then eat each other's souls.  Or something like that.  I don't think those were her real words.  But by then I had realized that she didn't say she hated ME, she said she hated the middle school stage of life.  So I was happy and didn't care about the rest. 

Then she taught me how to make a turkey. 

Me:  Fireman Dave is cooking the turkey.  I pretty much don't have to do anything but act like I don't know how to cook a turkey.  But I told him he needs to make it come out not dry.  Because all turkeys are dry and that's the big reason people secretly don't like Thanksgiving but out of tradition we keep doing it anyway. 

Her:  You have to make a brine..... (and without hesitation she started to tell me how to make Turkey Brine ala Debi - because my eyes were glassy from hunger and I was yawning every 5 seconds, she must've read my body language as please teach me how to make turkey brine.)

Me:  Can I just bring you the turkey and you do it for me?

Her:  It's easy!  Because I'm a super cook and you are not.  But I will share my secrets with you because it's a holiday and we're sitting here waiting for our kids to use up all their arcade tokens and we need to talk about SOMETHING. And I don't hate you. 

Her:  You take a little pepper, lots of salt, some other things, ....  pour it all over the turkey and then sit on it overnight.

Me:  I have to sit on it?  That's a really long time to sit on a turkey.

Her:  NO!  I said put a skillet on it.  To weigh it down while it swims in the brine.  Let's just go to the store and I'll get you all the things you need.

So I said yes.  I said yes to turkey brine and friendship and the grocery store but only if I could get some food for my children and a bite or two for me because I was really in no condition to drive.  

So the boys and I went through a drive through chicken place and started gobbling as quick as we could grab the bag from the hand of the sweet young man dressed as a Christmas elf  in the drive thru window.  Drive, eat.  Drive, eat.  Then the boys asked me where their drinks were and I told them I left them behind at the restaurant and blamed it on Forgetful Low Blood Sugar Syndrome.  We also forgot napkins and I had nowhere to wipe my greasy fried chicken fingers so my wonderful boys offered me their pants legs to use as napkins.  With these words,... Mama, sometimes you have to act like us.  We do it all the time.    

Then I met Debi at the grocery store and honked at her repeatedly trying to get her to see where I was in the parking lot.  And the boys said I was embarrassing them honking and yelling out the window like that.  And didn't I teach them that honking was only for emergencies.  Then we left our kids locked in our respective cars because they're old enough to know not to talk to strangers in parking lots.  But not old enough to know not to kill each other while there is no parental supervision so we had to shop fast.

Then the boys and I went back to the chicken drive thru, claimed our forgotten drinks and the young elf remembered us and called us by name... You're Coke, Dr. Pepper and Root-Beer, right?  And I felt acknowledged and comforted by his great service.  And then we went home.


Happy Thanksgiving day to you.  Let's talk thanks and blessings and all things good soon. 

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