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Frozen Turkey
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A short time after Rod and I were married, a local supermarket offered a great deal on frozen turkeys for Thanksgiving. His sister, Kathy, and I headed to the store to pick up our Thanksgiving bird. I had wanted a large one, so I asked the butcher if they had any over 20 pounds. He returned with a 23 pound bird, and handed it over the counter to me.
It really should have come with a caution sign! The next thing I knew, that bird was shooting out of my hands and skating across the floor. I ran after it. (I could still run then) I picked it up and started back to my shopping cart. Like a bar of wet soap, it popped out of my hands again and slid across the floor. Three more times I tried to pick it up, twice more it skidded across the floor. Finally I got hold of that bird and, while cradling it in my arms like a sleeping baby, I approached the meat counter. The people standing at the counter were looking somewhat horrified. They weren't sure if it was appropriate or not to laugh . As I looked at the butcher, I calmly said, "Could I have a different one, please? I don't think this one's dead yet." At that point, everyone broke into laughter - with me, not at me. And to this day, I won't touch a frozen turkey.
Have a funny weekend, and never be afraid to laugh at yourself!
1 comment:
That is REALLY funny!!! I think, truthfully, that Gary has handled every frozen turkey we've had in our 46+ years of marriage. MY turn to handle them is when it's time to stuff them!!!
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