Good-Bye Turkey

Once upon a time, a few years ago, this is what happened.

Thanksgiving had passed and I was watching Food Network as they showed various gourmet recipes to make from the Thanksgiving leftovers. Maybe I am abnormal, but I enjoy eating the leftovers in the same form they were on Thanksgiving Day. I don’t really want to puree, fry or mangle anything.  What’s wrong with the food as it is? It tasted good on the Big Day. Why mess with a good thing?

On the other hand, we were on day 4 of eating leftovers and I was more than ready to say good-bye. My husband, daughter and I were eating at the dining room table, enjoying the realization that most of the food was gone, except for some turkey.

“I’m tired of this food, but I won’t mind eating some turkey sandwiches,” I said, trying to sound convincing. I envisioned adding some cheese, mayo and honey mustard, and toasting them under the broiler. I was already advertising the soon-to-come turkey subs.

All of a sudden something didn’t seem right. It was too quiet. Where was our golden retriever pup? We looked under the table where he tended to lie while we ate, but no dog.  Up I jumped and hurried into the kitchen, and there he was, both front paws up on the island while he feasted on turkey.

“Ahhh!” was all I could get out. The dog promptly got down and I told him off, but it was too late.

“It was worth it,” his eyes told me. “I love turkey!” his smile said.

There went my turkey subs. I have to admit I am not really sad about it. Honestly, how much turkey should one really eat in the span of a week?