Friday, November 20, 2009


ME:  What are you doing, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  What does it look like I’m doing? I’m picking up a turkey.

ME:  But you know we don’t eat meat, Grammy.

GRAMMY:  Who cares what you eat.  It’s my house and I like turkey so I’m buying turkey.  What’s wrong with you anyway?  It’s Thanksgiving.  Who doesn’t eat turkey on Thanksgiving?

ME:  Vegetarians, that’s who.

GRAMMY:  Well, it’s not like it’s a religion, Barbara.  You can have meat one day a year.  You know.  Just to prove you’re as American as the rest of us.

ME:  I don’t have to prove anything, Grammy.

GRAMMY:  Well then, don’t come.  Stay home and eat alone.  I’m having turkey and if you come to my house, that’s what you’re getting.  Alfie doesn’t mind turkey.

ME:  Alfie?

GRAMMY:  Yep.  I invited him.  Thought you might like the company.

ME:  Well, I suppose we could do turkey one day a year.

GRAMMY:  Lord, no wonder you were gone three days.  You’re easier to flip than a pancake.

Photo:  Sage

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1 comment:

I'm Jet . . . said...

Oh, Barb. This post is so . . . deep.