A Suck-Ass Kind Of Morning.

I have had the worst morning. It all started Saturday night. Jethro and I did a little shopping. I finally managed to purchase the Thanksgiving turkey after accidentally picking out the wrong one and having to go back and locate the one for $0.39 per lb. which was the proper size. The endeavor held up the checkout line for about 15 minutes during which time Jethro was verbally abused by the waiting customers. But dammit, the store should have marked things more clearly and had enough of the product out for display instead of back in the freezer.

So we purchased the turkey and the requisite $20.00 worth of crap to go along with it so we could get it for $0.39 per lb, including the Cajun Injector (which is a needle and syringe with which you stab the turkey and infuse it with whatever jar of goo comes with it) of which I am not a huge fan. I bought it, however, because everyone else seems to like it (Mmmmmm...it's so juicy!) and I can make my own goo.

We arrived back at the house and I grabbed as many bags as I could. As luck would have it, I had to pee really, really badly. In my haste to get the bags to the kitchen and myself to the can, I tripped and dropped the bag containing the Cajun Injector which subsequently broke to smithereens. I crossed my legs, did a little dance and started to clean it up. Jethro came in and said he would put the rest of the stuff away so I could use the restroom. I did. It was heavenly.

Then we went out for the evening to party which we did. It was fun. Some drunk guy told me that I "have great breasts" and high-fived freaking' Jethro. I said, "What am I? A fucking orphan?" And he high-fived me too with his apologies. I mean really. I'm the lucky one. They're the idiots who will do anything you say just to talk about them in front of you.

Fast forward to this morning.

I lost my keys. I looked for them everywhere, even the pantry. There I made The Discovery. In the tumult of cleaning the Cajun Injector goo, peeing, and leaving the premises to have my breasts ogled, the turkey had been stored in the pantry instead of the 'fridge. It was almost like finding a dead pet.

I'm just going to let it go and be grateful I got a somewhat funny story out of it.