As I understand it, this holiday consists of an entire day of eating and watching football. Count me in! I know I've complained before about how I'm not allowed to have solid food. But surely an exception will be made for this, the most wonderful of second tier holidays. After all, I spent a good portion of last night helping dad make the turkey brine. In fact, I was the one who suggested that he throw a little Scotch in the mixture for good measure.You're going to let me eat some of the turkey, right? Right?
Dad? Mom?*crickets chirping*
Oh come on! How can you say no to this face?
OK. You want to play hardball. I have news for the both of you. YOU ARE IN FOR A LONG NIGHT. If you don't agree to give me some turkey tomorrow, I will make sure that I'm up every 15 minutes tonight. And I won't make any of those cute whimpers that I've been limiting myself to lately. I will scream so loud that CPS will be knocking down your door. I will channel Linda Blair and projectile vomit all over my room and anyone who sets foot in it. I can make the next 36 hours of your lives miserable if I want to.
But I don't have to.
You can stop it. Just give me some turkey and no one will get hurt. You hear me? Just. Give. Me. Some. Turkey.
2 comments:
maybe u can lobby for a gravy bottle???? Or perhaps a bottle of brine???? Jenna
I love the gravy bottle idea. Thank you, Giant.
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