A Special Thanksgiving Message

With the holiday tomorrow, I wanted to take the time to wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving, to remind everyone to cherish what you have, and to enjoy time spent with family and friends.

Plus, it couldn't hurt to put a smile on everyone's face due in part to my miserable age 7 Thanksgiving, right?

My Grandma Carol was in town for the holiday, visiting from Detroit. She and Mom were preparing yummy goodness befitting the Gods: turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries, some sort of dish comprised mainly of cheese, the works. A feast was lain before us all. Of course, being a naive child, I had no idea that overindulging has its consequences. All I saw was the glorious Turkey Leg.

"IT. WILL. BE. MINE," I thought.

Even to this day, if you ask any of my friends, they would probably describe me as the type of person who is focused to the point of destruction. When I want something, nothing will stand in my way....

...Not my Mom's warning that an entire turkey leg is simply too much food for a tall, gangly 7 year old. Not my Dad's insistence that HE should get the turkey leg (read: BOTH turkey legs). Not my sister's whining that she wanted it toooooo and why does Emily get everything?

Let me tell you... I didn't listen to a darn thing anyone had to say and I ate that entire thing. Plus sides. Then dessert. I rolled around all afternoon like a King, my belly protruding in such an unnatural manner.

Come bed time, the tryptophan was hitting so hard that I could barely keep my eyes open. I was in no shape to be conscious at all. Grandma and I decided to go to bed. I took the top bunk, she took the bottom.

We talked for a few minutes about what we would do the next day, said our goodnights, and passed out.

Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning I woke up feeling... "funny."

".....Grandma? Could you turn on the light?"

".....mfngskdfuha. What? *grumble grumble*. Sure, honey," she said, barely awake.

If she had known what would befall her upon the turning on of the lights, she probably would've just stayed in Michigan.

It was not pretty. I spewed forth an ungodly amount of Thanksgiving dinner all over my poor, dear Grandmother. It was matted in her hair, dripping down her nightdress, squashing into the carpet.

Frantic calls for help brought my parents in to help clean us up.

Two showers, new bedding, and lots of teeth brushing later, we were able to crawl back into bed, both cuddled up on the bottom bunk. I promptly fell right back into a coma. I probably can't say as much for Grandma Carol. She probably slept with one eye open the rest of the trip.

Neither of us ate turkey for years.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!