Turkeys

I know what you're thinking.  "Another blog about being thankful, blah, blah, blah".  Well, I am thankful, I am blessed, but this is not that kind of post.  This is a post about blasted turkeys.  There's about 20 of them in all their nastiness out my front window right now.  If you know me very well, you know I hate, HATE birds.  Birds of all shapes and sizes, but especially the very large ones.  Their nasty, sharp claws, wrinkly skin, ugly beaks.  Ewww, ewww, ewww.  Apparently there was an incident at an aviary (I think that's what they're called) when I was young and ever since I have been deathly afraid of birds.  I used to have nightmares that a chicken was under my covers flapping around, scratching me and it couldn't get out because I was holding the covers down.  Yeah, it's that bad. 

So these wild turkeys have been hanging out by our house for the past few days.  They're huge and the tracks they're leaving are really freaking me out.  Luckily there hasn't been anybody around to see me looking out all the windows to see if they're around and then running for the car in sheer terror.  I'm trying to hold it together for my boys so they won't be afraid (and so they won't laugh at me), but it's really, really hard. 

The worst part it, Taylor (my 9 year old) will be getting his turkey license and fully intends to shoot a turkey later this year.  So, just like the elk meat hanging in my garage, we're going to have turkey hanging in our garage.  Seriously, people, I don't think I'm gonna be able to handle it.  And, I really don't think I'm going to be able to cook it or eat it.  I'm cringing just thinking about it and that's months away.

I once saw a show that had a man who also hated turkey but he was so bad that he wouldn't even eat turkey of any kind.  He just couldn't do it.  I laughed and thought he was crazy, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm headed that direction.  I'm supposed to be a "mental health professional", I really need to get a handle on this...