Best Friends Corner v2

OMG, I can't believe she had pictures...

As promised, yet another installation of the life and times of Jr. In my last blog, I mentioned a tradition called “Turkey Last Dance.” Apparently, this has caused quite a stir. Since several of you have asked Jr to describe what that is, I will now go into greater detail of the early times of “Turkey Last Dance.”
As a child, on Thanksgiving morning, my mother and I would dance around the kitchen with the bird before it went into the oven. It was still in the plastic, and we wrapped it in a kitchen towel (all you fellow germ-a-phobes, it’s o.k.) Well, a couple of years ago, I took this concept to a new level. I decided that the proper time to do this was the night before, aka Thanksgiving Eve. The tradition is as follows.
Everyone arrives and enjoys cocktails and hors d’oeuvres (yes folks, there is alcohol involved.) From there, we introduce the bird. We wrap it in a kitchen towel and pass it around so everyone can get to know the turkey, from there, we name it. One year we discovered it was a hen so we named it (what else?) Selma Salmonella. Last year we named the bird “Peaches” after my mother (I will not go there.)
After the ceremonial naming, the dancing begins. We play songs like “Last dance” , as well as other appropriate (and inappropriate tunes.) One year we had a conga line outside. This year, we bowled with Peaches. We set up water bottles for pins and down the hallway it went. (That was the most tender bird I’ve ever had.) When I tell people this story they look at me like I have nine heads, after all, who dances with dead poultry? But I have a feeling this is going to catch on, and others will soon be doing their own versions. Next year, we are planning something with a catapult, stay tuned, it’s going to be a hoot!