I think I was 13, maybe it was a year before or a year after. My parents had been divorced for 4 or 5 years and I alternated spending holidays with them. We still lived in Arkansas at the time, Mom and Dad lived about an hour away from each other. During this Thanksgiving my Dad and I were spending it with his parents who lived here in Tennessee. It was about a 5 or 6 hour drive. Dad decided that he and I were going to do the Turkey (in Arkansas) and take it to his parents house (in Tennessee). I wasn’t sure what possessed him to get this idea and thought he was joking until I actually saw the turkey.

I’ll never forget standing in the kitchen with him while we both tried to figure out what to do with this huge bird. I had a vague memory of watching my Mom or Grandma pull something out of the caviety of the turkey before preparing it and putting it in the oven. So I look at Dad and say, “I think there’s stuff in there you have to pull out.” I remember him looking at me and saying, “What? Really?”, before he reached inside to pull out whatever it is they put in there. I was just glad he didn’t make me do it!!!

Somehow, someway, probably by the grace of God, the turkey was a success and even made the journey from Arkansas to Tennessee. We havn’t had another adventure quite it since, but it sure made for good memories!