* A Thanksgiving Incident For Which I’ve Never
Been Given A Good Explanation
There was suddenly a great commotion in the kitchen. Women were yelling and screaming, chairs were bumping, things were crashing and falling on the floor.
Then there was dead silence.
And then there was a nervous giggle followed by laughter - riotous hoots and snorts and uncontrolled hilarity.
Something was up.
The men all jumped up from couches and Lazy Boy chairs, setting down beers - leaving a perfectly good TV football game behind. They ran to the kitchen instinctively, like fathers. They had no idea what to expect.
The children were already there. Their eyes were huge. They were silently staring at something that was up against the wall, on the floor, beneath the table.
The men appeared at the door and the children stared at them, wondering what their reaction would be. The men stared at the women. The women stared at the open oven. It was empty except for a large, lonely baking pan. Something brown and greasy dripped from the open oven door forming a pool on the floor. From the pool, a broad skid mark resembling the trace of an old mop being dragged across the floor, left a path that rambled away from the stove and under the table. The brown skid mark struck chairs and table legs, leaving a brown, greasy trail, before ending at the base of a large, nearly done Thanksgiving turkey – which was lodged against the wall like a tiny stumble drunk. It glistened and steamed and smelled of feast.
The children looked at the adults. The adults looked at the children. Everyone looked at the oven and then at the turkey.
There was dead silence.
Someone giggled.
And then the whole room collapsed into a second round of rollicking, side-splitting laughter, everyone clutching their sides tightly lest they laugh so hard they pee their pants.
Happy Thanksgiving to all!
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jmac1949
Lisa Scroggins
jlsathre
toritto
Deborah Young
I am Stretch
Salon.com
Comments
Rated for a good, quick story that made me laugh!
Andy: That was my goal. Thanks. HTG
Walter: "Half-drunken uncles wrestled the turkey back into the pan, aunts and grandmothers resumed pies of apple and pumpkin, fathers returned to a football game that never knew they left, and children played boisterously while the dog happily cleaned up the grease streak." HTG
DanielEWalsh: Can you blame the turkey for trying? HTG
Buffy: I don't think you meant to "mame" the holidays but I like it. HTG
WalkAway: How nice of you. HTG
Owl: I'm so glad you dropped by. I always try to leave a light on. HTG
That's all.
"Ah shit".
If he was drunk enough he'd squeeze a dollar into my hand and tell me to find myself a nice Italian boy.
My mother had just taken the first sip of her martini when she looked up and saw our huge Saint Bernard dog, Camille, jump up on the dining room table and make off with the turkey, still steaming.
Goerge swilled down more of his Sambucca, rubbed his neck and said "Ah shit".