Weekend turkey meals might have spurred vendetta

Turkey, that wonderful, amazing, juicy, meal in itself turkey. With Thanksgiving a little more than a week away my mind has been revolving around the succulent bird which will be on just about everyone’s table.

This weekend I had the pleasure of enjoying a deep fried turkey with some friends. Though the following day my dad had prepared a turkey dinner as well.

A dinner of my father’s turkey, dressing and gravy is well known where I am from. He served it faithfully to the customers of his restaurant every Sunday.

It was one of the most requested Sunday dinner plates other than his roast beef, though that particular dinner is a whole other story.

Now, back to the bird, I don’t know about you but I could eat Turkey just about every week. Turkey dinner, sandwiches, hash, spread, even turkey noodle soup.

I’m not quite sure what it is about that tasty bird that drives me and so many others crazy around the holidays. It almost seems unfair at times, you have this large meal and someone will say “have you tried the ham?” only to notice your plate filled with turkey.

Of course all this talk of eating turkey can easily lead to that old addage, “you are what you eat.” Well if that is the case, gobble, gobble gobble.

Though my weekend consumption of the delectable bird did lead to some guilt come Monday morning.

As I was leaving the house to go to work my descent down the porch stairs was stalled as I heard a gobble come from around the corner.

I slowly walked to the corner of the house and looked around there stood three wild turkeys. Their eyes all trained on me as I walked out in to the open.

I long wondered if a wild turkey would attack a person if prompted, and what better way to prompt an attack than eating a cousin.

So I looked back at the turkeys and asked them, “what do you all want?” To which two of them responded gobble gobble gobble. Now I’m not sure if that was a demand for the release of their fellow feathered friend or a notification to me that I am a marked man.

I turned away from the turkeys, looking back of course to make sure they didn’t charge. I’m not sure what I would have down if they would have charged seeing as kicking or taking a swing at a turkey seems a but excessive.

I got to my car with out incident and proceeded to work. I had a lot on my mind so I forgot to share this story with my co-workers who would laugh at my paranoia of a few wild turkeys.

The day passed and I went to a friends house to watch the Green Bay Packers play the Minnesota Vikings. I drove home after the game and as I was walking through the gate I heard gobbling off in the distance, it’s origin was shrouded by the darkness.

I stood there for awhile and looked over the field adjacent from the house though I saw nothing moving I could tell I was being watched.

Some would say it is paranoia, some would say I’m crazy, they would probably both be right. Though I’m not discounting the possibility of a ninja turkey bent of vengeance just yet.