As I unbutton the top of my pants to allow a scouch more room to take down leftovers, I know know how Rex must feel at this point in the season. On Thanksgiving eve you are full of hope and anticipation about how much you are going to enjoy the feast the next day. The turkey and fixin's all look very appetizing and you know you can get it all down and be the king of the holiday table.
The first course was easy, the anti pasto with its lite fare and savory offerings awaken your taste buds and put you in the mood for wanting more. Then a couple of glasses of wine and the pasta to follow, make me feel a bit uneven. Wait a minute, dare I see sneak a hot dog during the pasta. That's sacreligious, how dare I! I not feeling well and I didn't have dinner last night...
I'm getting a little carried away with myself and feeling I can take on the main course without taking a breath. Here it comes the star of the meal, the young turkey with all the dressing, including the sweet potatoes with marshmellows. But I shuddered, my jaw quivering and my brain telling me its over. But I push on, without any momentum or a game plan that gets me back on track. I fumble with my fork and start feeling a little dizzy. I start mistaking my family for pirates and start passing them the asparagus and stuffed mushrooms. Another lost dinner. I regroup for dessert which will take me to the end of this meal and leave me with hope for next year.
Rexie, here's some advice for next season. Try a less bluster and earn your title like Kobiashi, one hot dog at a time...
Weeb's Full!
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