It's the day before Thanksgiving and I have about a gazillion things on my list to get done before I can even start cooking tomorrow but I just had to take some time and blog.
This morning, as usual, I awoke to my two boys banging around in their room with toys. And, of course, I stuck my head under my pillow and covered myself up even deep under the covers. I hear doors up and close, the not so soft sound of pitter patter up and down the hall. But, hey, no one was screaming. I lay in bed a while longer before frantically, my daughter Lydia runs into my room saying, "Momma the boys let Ginger out and she ate the turkey!" I shoot out of my bed, now wide awake. I scream, "WHAT?!" and run, frantically down the stairs. What do I find there? My 140 pound St. Bernarnd, Ginger, stuffing her face with MY, used to be, 20 pound turkey.
*sigh* Yeah. *sigh*
Let me back up. I forgot to put the turkey in the fridge to thaw a couple of days ago. So yesterday, when I remember that it takes forever for frozen turkeys to thaw. I realized it was too late to let it sit in the fridge until Thanksgiving. So I pulled it out to thaw in the sink. It was still covered in plastic and netting and inside two Target sacks so I thought it was safe.
Ginger sleeps in Lydia's room. It's Lydia's job in the morning to let her out to go potty. Occasionally one of the boys will open Lydia's door and let her out and she usually gets into some kind of mischief so it's very important for Lydia to get up straight away and let her outside. The boys also know they are supposed to stay in their room after they wake up and play quietly with toys until the rest of us get up. That's ideally how it's supposed to work around here. Obviously, that's not what happened today. The boys opened Lydia's door. Ginger ran out and Lydia covered her head with the pillow and snuggled deeper into her covers. Like mother, like daughter eh? Ginger stumbles upon the trash first and then discovers the somewhat thawed turkey in the sink and helps herself. It's pretty remarkable that she was able to lift a frozen 20 lb turkey out of my sink. By the time I stumbled down the stairs it looked like a crime scene in my kitchen. If I hadn't been so livid I would have thought to take a picture because I know someday I'll probably laugh over the scene. Turkey blood and guts all over my white tile and splattered over the cabinets and baseboards.
So what did I do? I calmly let Ginger out. Told the kids, in no uncertain terms to get back in their beds, and went back to my room and screamed like a crazy person into my pillow. Then I called my husband and told him all about it swearing that this was the last straw. Ginger had to go. Images of past holiday sitcoms started running through my mind. I saw myself and my three kids driving all over town searching for the last Thanksgiving turkey, pushing over little old ladies to get to a measly 5 pound turkey that I would some how have to make stretch to feed everyone. I quickly jump up, throw on some clothes, rush around to get the kids dressed and fed, and the turkey mess cleaned up. We get in the car and I rush back to Target all the while, berating my children for, "disobeying and leaving your room" and for, "not getting out of bed to let Ginger out." Conveniently leaving out that I, too stayed in bed and that if I had remembered to put the turkey in the fridge in the first place none of it would have happened either. *sigh* Once we get in the car Lydia's Awana's CD starts up. Too upset to turn it off I let it play. It keeps the kids quiet after all.
About 3 minutes into the drive the story goes like this, 3 children were getting a gift for their teacher. They just found the perfect lamp at a garage sale and went back to their club house to paint it. A fourth friend shows up and breaks it accidentally. In my head, I saw this whole scenario of the other three children shouting at their friend for ruining all their hard work and being so thoughtless and inconsiderate. I was prepared to side with them. I figured there would probably be some lesson about not being so careless with other peoples things. But no. The three children did not get up set with their friend. In fact they told her it was OK because it was just an accident. The children were calm and rational. There was no shouting or berating. Then one little girl said, "I know what to do. We should pray and ask God to help us." And so they did.
*Gulp* And then I felt like a complete idiot. *sigh* I realized I was acting like a spoiled, immature, brat, throwing a fit over a situation that was really no ones fault. Yes it was an expensive piece of meat. Yes there were things we could have all done differently. But I just got schooled by a bunch of first graders on my bad attitude.
I had to repent to my children and to God. And of course they all forgave me. And of course we got to Target and there were still plenty of turkeys. And the truth is I needed to go anyway to get a few last minute things. And I'm sure that if I let the turkey sit in warm water it will be thawed out by tomorrow to cook....hopefully! But if it's not, it won't be the end of the world. Nothing is worth loosing your dignity, and hurting other people over.
A tough, and slightly embarrassing lesson for me to learn. I'm sure this will all be funny someday. Hopefully it will be tomorrow as we all sit down to eat our Thanksgiving meal.
Blessings to you all this holiday season. Cherish this time. I know I will be.
