20 Nov Slice of Life: When Problems Become Traditions #SOL18 #TWTBlog
Hey! Hands off!
I swat my son’s hand off the turkey.
I just want one piece of bacon. It’s my favorite part and it’s best when it is right out of the oven.
I laugh and remember …
That doesn’t sound good I think to myself as I hear my mom run down the stairs.
Oh, it’s ruined.
It sounds like my mom is crying. I decide to venture downstairs to see what is going on. I start to have second thoughts as my warm bed beckons me back. Then the banging begins. I have to see what is going on.
As I enter the kitchen, I see half of the contents of the refrigerator laying all over the floor. My dad is searching for something. Dirty dishes are all over the counter. My mom is making space in the sink for the turkey. None of this is matching up. Maybe I should just quietly go back upstairs. My dad sees me.
Find the cat. Now.
His tone made it clear there was not an invitation to question his reasoning. The cat was not his favorite, but this had to be more.
I start in the family room. One of Nell’s favorite spots. I then make my way upstairs and check my bedroom and my parent’s bedroom. I decide not to wake my siblings and head back downstairs. I turn and see her. She is outside on the railing peeking through one of the front door windows. She tilts her head as if to say, “How’s it going in there?” Not well I think to myself.
Nell is outside. I report to my parents. Do you need her?
No leave her out there. She may never come back inside.
Because if she does, I just might ring her neck!
What did she do?
She ate a section of the turkey.
But it’s still raw.
Didn’t matter to her.
What are we going to do?
Well, we can’t get another turkey, so we are going to make do.
My mom pats the turkey dry and places it back in the roasting pan. She begins preparing it as she always does except there are two sizable holes on the top of the turkey. The scene is a bit much and I fight the laughter that is building within me. I know this is not the time to laugh.
You are going to still cook it. And serve it. And eat it.
What else are we going to do? We have thirteen people to feed and this bird needs to get in the oven if it is going to be ready on time.
My dad unwraps what he was looking for in the refrigerator and sets to work. My mom watches over his shoulder. I can see her lips moving as she quietly recites the Hail Mary.
My dad backs up and examines his efforts. He nods his head and makes a few adjustments.
That will do it.
I walk over to see what he did to distract our guests from the holes in the back of the turkey. Bacon. And lots of it. He covered the entire back of the turkey, a little extra in some spots, with bacon. It actually worked. You really couldn’t tell at all.
Have a little turkey with your bacon?
Their necks snap toward me and they glare. Clearly it was too soon for humor.
I smile at my son.
I know. Just wait for everyone else.
We all gather around and snatch a piece of bacon off the turkey as it rests on the counter before carving. My son is right. It is best right out of the oven.
How did this tradition begin? What is the story?
We eat our bacon together in the kitchen as I retell the story – which is now a tradition as well.
Tammy and I hope you find time this week to share stories of traditions with your students, family, and friends. These moments of story – slices of life – are what bring joy and meaning to our lives. We are grateful to have each of you with us on our professional journey of learning. Best wishes for a happy, restful holiday.
Thank you, Betsy, Beth, Deb, Kathleen, Kelsey, Lanny, Melanie, and Stacey for this weekly forum from Two Writing Teachers. Check out the writers, readers, and teachers here.