Testy Turkey

No, that’s not a typo. Turkey Day 2009 was a testy affair. To begin with, the meal sucked. My SIL, whom my MIL lauds to be such a good cook, served truly yucky food. There was a salad of spring greens with too much bleu cheese and a thick fig dressing that could have choked a hippo. There was no roast turkey, per se, but a couple of baked turkey breasts slathered with some green slop; the entree looked and tasted like a reject from a Weight Watchers cookbook. There was the usual sweet potato casserole with marshmallows. The gluey mashed potatoes had mushrooms in them — an offense to all edible fungi. The grilled vegetables were swimming in oil. The gravy was lumpy and the color of meconium. SIL’s saving grace was her stuffing popping with fresh herbs and apples. Even the desserts were bad: tasteless mini cupcakes, gloppy apple pie, overly sweet chocolate pecan pie, and something that purported to be German Chocolate Cake.

My kids were travel weary and hungry. They behaved well at the table, but they all were nasty and testy all day. My MIL raved on and on about the accomplishments of the Prodigal Son and Daughter and those of the ragamuffin nieces and nephews from
Fort Lauderdale. WineGuy had little to brag about other than Wild Thing and Moose. Wizard has been very mouthy, aggressive, and disrespectful.

We toured the St. Louis art museum and Basilica today. Wizard and Moose took turns throwing tantrums on the way there and inside. I had visions of being billed for the destruction of priceless objects. Then we had to sit through a pretentious, yet painful, Friday night Sabbath service and a lame pizza dinner at home.

Boy, I hope tomorrow is a better day.


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