Thanksgiving

Back in April, for some reason, we bought 25 baby turkeys. Not wild turkeys, but rather the typical Pilgrim feast turkeys. By Thanksgiving we were down to one magnificent tom turkey with full plummage and 3 large female turkeys. We were going to my parents' house for Thanksgiving.

Urania was about 4 years old. I was telling her we were going to go to Grandma's and eat turkey. Her eyes got big. "Eat turkey?" she asks.

"Yes, we are going to have turkey."

"Like our turkeys?" she again asked.

"No, honey. We are going to eat dead turkey." I respond.

Her eyes got huge. "We are going to eat dead turkey?" she asked incredulously.

Suddenly a light goes on in my head and I picture what she must be picturing in her head.
Ick.

"Sorry Urania. I don't mean truly a dead turkey but rather a turkey from the store." Hoping that would erase the mental image of a dead turkey like one of ours, dead on a platter.

"Oh, ok. A store turkey is much better than a turkey like one of ours."

Whew. That was a close one. Could have scarred her from Thanksgivings for the rest of her life.