Last night I celebrated my chilling three miles with a trip to Halladay Celebration's Turkey, well, celebration. I brought the husband along with me and we ate and ate and ate. I was the picture of glamour as I picked up an entire turkey leg and walked around gnawing happily.
Halladay Celebration gave us a lovely plate to take home with the other turkey leg. After all, it was only right. The other turkey leg would get lonely in my tummy. We are supposed to head over to the husband's mom's house to celebrate Christmas early, so I decided I would snack on my beloved turkey leg before going to eat. I'm like a hobbit. I have second and third breakfast-and I'm only five foot tall-and I don't wear shoes.
So I heat up the turkey leg and show it to my husband singing a song I penned just for the occasion called "This is mine and not yours." I choreographed a little dance that went to my clever tune. As I pulled out the wooden TV tray to enjoy my much earned feast, I got my finger stuck in the joint of the tray and it pinched the crap out of me. I think it almost broke skin.
After my husband got done laughing hysterically, he made up his own little song called "Rub some cream on it and shut up." My song was obviously better. I'm just sayin.
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