Dearest Ravenous Monster Baby,
You know what tastes really good? Turkey.
Yes sir, it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures. Well, not just turkey *per-say*. We’ve been eating a lot of turkey, me and you, on sandwiches and salads and whatnot since you made eating ham a thing of the past back in April. Since canned tuna is out (which in salad form is Mommy’s favorite sandwich toppings and I WILL eat one as soon as you make your grand appearance), my options are ham (puke), turkey and roast beef.
So turkey sandwiches on the regular around these parts, but what I’m talking about is a nice, fat, salty, buttery, cooked-to-perfection hunk of meat that is only found around our house during holidays and the occasional dinner out to Bob Evans. You’ll learn someday that Thanksgiving dinner is pretty much the epitome of meals.
Ok, let me put it this way. You know how sometimes Mommy doesn’t eat and you get so pissed off and start just kicking the crap out of my insides, but then after you get some nourishment you calm down and fall asleep? Well I hate to break it to you, but guess what? That’s pretty unacceptable behavior out here in the real world, especially for grown-people. Except on Thanksgiving.
See, this magical day isn’t just about the turkey. It’s about stuffing and cranberries and green-bean casserole (the only time green beans are edible in my book) and rolls and mashed potatoes and corn. AND GRAVY. Mercy, the gravy. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I often have an uncontrollable urge to put gravy on everything. It makes all that food I mentioned above taste even better, if that’s possible.
So here’s how it works: People we love sit down at a table. We are all wearing clothes, so no more nakedness for you (I’m sorry to break that cold, hard fact to you, but I promise it’s worth it). We put all this yummy on our plates and then DRENCH it with gravy. Then we eat that and get another plate. Then we dig into desserts — how could I forget desserts? — and then the men folk (that’s you and Dad) sit in front of the TV and watch a football game, but make it through one possession before falling into what we call a *turkey coma*.
The women-folk don’t bother with all that extra stuff — we just find a couch or bed and go right into our turkey coma nap. This is the best nap of the year, what with the drool and how usually it’s a little cool out so it’s super comfy and how the belly is super full, so much so that laying down is the only comfortable position. Oh, and how it’s a legitimate reason to put on your “comfy pants” instead of pants with buttons, snaps and zippers.
Then after a couple hours in the turkey coma, you wake up and watch more football or a movie, and then raid the fridge. This is usually when Mommy makes a sandwich out of a roll, turkey scraps and stuffing and then dips it in gravy.
And because Thanksgiving is a holiday, us grown-people don’t have to go to work. Last year, Mommy and Daddy were both off for a lot of days and stayed up until 3 AM every morning playing video games. We’ll probably be up the same kind of hours this year if you are here with us, but for other reasons.
But see, kid, this is where your cooperation comes in to play. You are due on this magical day. However, if you are actually *born* on Thanksgiving day, Mommy and Daddy and Aunt Sis and your grandparents won’t get to have this yummy meal. No Turkey. No gravy. No sandwiches dipped in gravy. No nap. Just birthin’ you.
Say, you know what would be helpful? You getting here this week! What do you say, bud? Hows about, like, this weekend maybe!? And while you won’t be able to actually EAT the turkey, you can definitely smell it and that’s one step closer than you would be if you were still in my belly.
But you’ll probably be like your Dad and be a pedantic rule follower and say, “oh, no, Mommy, the doctor said November 25, so November 25 it is! Let me just get comfy here and we can wait it out!”
And if that’s the case? Fine. Be that way. But just remember that if you miss this Thanksgiving, you’ll miss ‘ wearing a wear a newborn sized pilgrim hat or turkey costume. That’ll be your cross to bear.
I love you,