Friday, November 25, 2005

Two Turkeys

Six years ago, I made two turkeys. One I popped into the oven. The other came out of the oven.

I started making the first turkey at 5 AM. I was awake most of the night, so I might as well have gotten the turkey out of the way. I cleaned, dried, buttered and spiced that turkey, finishing it by tying the drumsticks to each other and stringing the wings close to the bird. After plopping that turkey into the roasting pan, it was ready to go. This turkey was taken over to the grandparents' house and popped into the 250º oven at 7 AM, and a few hours later it was a succulent, juicy hit at the Thanksgiving table.

The second turkey took a little longer. A lot more care and consideration went into this baby bird. This was going to be a slow roasted deal. I was going to know and nurture this turkey from the beginning. I fed it some good veggies and some cookie dough and anything else that sounded good at the time. I gave it a nice warm house in which to live and I made sure that it never went without. That turkey kept getting bigger, getting to a very desirable, plump weight. It was going to turn out to be the best, most loved turkey ever made.

After baking it for 8 ½ months in some special juices, this turkey decided it was done. After some careful maneuvering, this turkey came out pink, perfect... and loud. This turkey turned out to be a wonderful, beautiful hit in the hospital.

My son was born on Thanksgiving Day. So you see… I made two wonderful turkeys that day. I only got to have the second one; the doctors wouldn’t let me have any of the first.

Happy Birthday, Jadon! You still are my favorite turkey!


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