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Turkey Strut; The Dinner Conversation

A Mature Conversation not for the children.

One of the things I love about Mountain Man is his manly perspective on all my misadventures and the turkey episode was no exception. Thought I’d share.

I chose dinner time to discuss my amorous turkey.

“Oh, Mountain Man, you’ll never guess what happened today.” I might have added a tear or two cause I wanted some Mountain Man sympathy and loving.

Instead of “you poor dear, let me give you a hug,” he said, “You know there’s an easy way to solve the problem. We’ll have roast turkey dinner tomorrow.

What had I done? I’d gone too far. That’s not what I wanted at all. No turkeys in the pot. No, I just wanted some big old male sympathy for poor fragile, turkey pecked me. I started to backtrack.

“Well, just give me some time to work with him. After all I encouraged him and I did ask for it.” I think I set feminist causes back with that statement.

Mountain Man pondered and then said “Well, you really have. After all, you’re out there singing with them and dancing with them and stroking his feathers. He just thinks you’re some strange kind of huge hen.

“Huge?” I don’t like that word. I look down to see if I’ve started to gain weight. No my waist band still has elastic left to stretch. I’m good.

“Yes, you’re right, it’s my fault,” I say pleading for Mr. Tom’s life. “I’ll behave, he’ll reform and we won’t need to eat him. And after all, I think I made the fatal mistake of crouching down to film him.” (The things we do in the name of blogging.)

“Well,” Mountain Man replied, “I should have told you when I was looking out the bathroom window this morning, he was out there parading for his girls and trying to jump them. He’s definitely got one thing on his mind. But the girls would have none of it. They just flew away and left him. Then you started flirting with him and he was already in the mood and next thing he knows, you’re on your knees. He’s thinking “I don’t know exactly how you do it with a big old hen but she’s ready and I’m going for it.

Well, I saved the turkey. He’s here to stay and will not be seeing the inside of the pot. And in typical female fashion, I’m not sure if I’m happy the turkey finds me so attractive or if I’m offended he thinks I’m a big old hen.

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