A Completely Normal Thanksgiving

I went to Shaw's yesterday to get my turkey. I decided to go with the fresh Butterball. Fresh to avoid the nightmare that is defrosting a frozen turkey (not having to deal with a sink full of ice-cold turkey water is totally worth another 50 cents a pound) and Butterball to avoid the huge disappointment that was the free-range, all natural turkey a few years back.

"Is she cooking a normal turkey this year?" my dad wants to know.

Unfortunately, when I got to Shaw's, all that was left were either huge 25-plus-pound turkeys or tiny, 11-pound turkeys. All the ladies were complaining bitterly about it. Meanwhile, I snuck off and found a guy in a suit who was standing around looking dumb and convinced him to go out back and find me a nice 15-pound turkey.

I was furtively wheeling my lovely mid-sized turkey toward the checkout lanes when the guy from the meat department came up to my cart with a kind of quizzical, nervous look on his face.

In return, I gave him a look that said, You know, I really am sorry if I got a turkey that you were saving for someone else. I really am. But if you think I'm giving it back, there is going to be a serious problem. My dad wants a normal turkey this year. And by God he's going to get it.

"Find everything you wanted?" he asked.

"Yup."

"OK, then," he said, as he stole another glance at my 15-pound turkey. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Oh, thank you. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

Don't worry, dad. This year the turkey is going to be completely normal.