Turkey Dysfunction

You would have to know my Dad to think this is really funny. I have been drinking wine all day without food. Dad has been hitting the Scotch. What’s the logical thing to do? Give me a video camera and him a carving knife.

Note that both mine and Lisa’s husbands are hiding out in another room playing video games with the kids. They are smart.

If anyone knows Jason B., I can pretty much guarantee that he will do “the laugh” over this one.

For my brother-in-law who reads my blog, please note how this holiday experience is so different from the one I married into that I often feel like I am on a different, and much quieter, planet when I visit your parents. (I read his blog when I understand what it is he is talking about, but the Ruby programming language, which he writes whole entire, published and searchable-on-Amazon books on, is a little over my head. You should buy a copy for each of your friends.)

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  • Poor Lyle! I don’t blame him for not liking that platter; it was ready to dump turkey juice (and the bird, for that matter) all over him. POS!

  • Steph, that is not Lyle, that is my Dad with the turkey. Lyle is the BIL. I think my sister will agree that holiday dinners aren’t worth the trouble.

    Jason, Cecil IS Clark. Guess that makes me . . . Juliette Lewis?

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