The preparation for the Thanksgiving feast starts in the dark of the early morning while the family is still asleep. I thought Doc was just applying her Puritan work ethic, but alas, it was to hide the deep dark secrets of the meal preparation.
I lie at a safe distance from the kitchen entrance, but still close enough in case some food should drop to the floor. On this particular Thanksgiving, Doc took great care to massage the twenty pound turkey both under and over the skin with melted butter, herbs and spices. After stuffing the turkey, she lifted the beautiful bird to put in the roaster. Just as she was bending over, the turkey slipped from her arms, hit the floor with a plop and skidded across the floor. It came screeching to a halt when it hit the wall. I didn’t know someone could say so many profane words in such a short span of time. The Pilgrims would have blushed!
After Doc calmed down, she picked up the bird, inspected it and found an assortment of crumbs, grime and other kitchen dirt on the turkey. I couldn’t believe what happened next. Doc cleaned off the turkey and put it right in the oven. Then she looked me in the eye, pointed her finger and threatened me to stay silent about what I had witnessed. She bribed me with some meat scraps. It worked, I didn’t tell a soul.
Hours went by and the family started arriving. The table looked beautiful and everyone’s spirits were high. The smells from the kitchen were enticing. I have to hand it to Doc, she served that dirty bird without even flinching. No one died from food poisoning and everyone went home full and happy. I guess we should all be thankful for that. HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!