Date Published: 02-14-2023
Thanksgiving came and the day proceeded at its usual pace. Bob didn’t like for me to spend the day in the kitchen, which suited me fine. I didn’t want to spend the day in the kitchen, so we generated lots of shortcuts in creating the traditional dinner. I used an oven bag to reduce roasting time of the turkey. Boxed stuffing and gravy mix hastened preparations. Dishes and pans piled up in the sink as the prepared recipes went into the oven. Aromas forecasting the delicious meal to come wafted throughout the house. I removed the turkey from the oven and set it on the counter. Just as I removed it from the oven bag the carbon monoxide detector shrieked in the bedroom.
I flew down the hall to the bedroom and opened a window. “This can’t be happening!” I hurried through the house opening more windows. When I returned to the kitchen, Tasha stood staring at the turkey on the floor. She gazed at me with surprise. “How did that happen?” she seemed to ask. I snatched it up and wiped it off. I finished the mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans and rolls and we enjoyed a fine dinner with pumpkin pie for dessert.
I told this story to a friend in the presence of my son, who said, “I never heard that story before.”
“No,” I laughed, “because I wiped off the turkey and we ate it!”
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