This turkey thing is really getting to me. I was grilling some dinner the other evening... bratwurst for Bruce, 98% fat-free hot dogs for me. The turkeys were there in the back yard as I was grilling. We've identified two separate flocks... they take turns feeding and waddling in the yard.
So, the first troop trouped by as I tended to the barbecuing victuals. They'd periodically glanced my way, gobble a little, eat some bugs and then went back into the woods.
Soon thereafter, the second family emerged, and they came a little closer, gobbled a little, and ate some bugs. One of the big ones, a mama I suppose, waddled over to the deck (I think she's the one who was at the door the other night). She looked up at me with those beady little eyes and clucked her little heart out, and then they all trekked back into the woods.
We sat down to dinner finally, and Bruce looked at me quizzically as I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My 98% fat-free hot dogs were, of course... turkey dogs. I just couldn't eat them.
1 comment:
This is priceless. I miss those turkeys. Maybe old Ben was right. Long live the turkeys!
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