I can see the end. It’s getting closer.
I’m not talking about the end of the world or anything major like that. The end I speak of is the end of the turkey.
Don’t get me wrong. I like turkey. But it does tend to go on a bit long.
Part of the problem is we managed to get our hands on a delicious free-range turkey again this year. These turkeys really do taste great. But the problem with turkeys running free is that no one is telling them to stop eating. No one is telling them to put those bugs down because they might gain too much weight. So the turkey keeps eating until the time it puts its head somewhere it shouldn’t.
While I am all in favour of turkeys living as full a life as possible in their short time with us, they could use to watch their weight a bit. This doesn’t seem to become apparent until a few days after Christmas. After a couple turkey dinners, a few turkey sandwiches, and a very tasty batch of turkey Alfredo and a planned turkey pot pie, I’m starting to think the turkey could have really used one of those exercise machines that keep popping up on television. That might help. And the drumsticks would likely be really impressive.
But no. The turkey was not into exercise and spent time packing on the pounds. But we are getting near the end. I know soup is on the way, but there is still a ways to go before we get there.
I keep thinking we should look for a smaller one. Or maybe a chicken. Possibly even the partridge in a pear tree you hear so much about. But, truth be told, I’d probably miss the leftovers. I’d for sure miss the turkey sandwiches.
Although by the end I probably be the one that needs the exercise machine.
