The turkey is coming, the turkey is coming or tales from the turkey side.................

Dear friends,
well it's almost that time of year.. Yeap it's my annual turkey race to the finish. I always try to get my turkey and cleaning done ahead of time, but of course I never do, and I end up panicked and humiliated. Of course my family and friends love to have a good laugh on or at me. Any way its time for my annual humiliation.

One year my sister( the perfect one) cooked. I; of course, was gonna be smart and make the candied yams. My sister is a type A personality and her kitchen was and is spotless. All decked out in black and white. I mean white rugs, walls, curtains, everything in the kitchen was white except the black appliances. Her floors were so clean you could and still can do surgery on them at any time.

I had on my cutest white, yeap you heard me, my white cashmere sweater dress. ( I was much smaller and could wear a sweater dress that wasn't made by Omar the tent maker). The kitchen was perfect, the dinner was perfect and I of course was and am not. I was trying desperately to be this perfect graceful person......... ......

I started the yams in the oven as my darling sister worked on the rest of the perfect meal. Are you starting to get the picture here? I slipped quietly into her perfect kitchen and peeked at those lazy yams. I looked and I looked but still they weren't doing anything. I waited and waited but still those yams had tons of juice in them. They were still not ready when that perfect turkey came out of the oven.

So being this awesome cook that I am, I improvised..... I figured that if the liquid in those yams wouldn't cook down in the oven I could do something else. I took the Corell dish of yams and placed them on top of the stove. Turned on the burner, and not even on high. Still they didn't do anything, so I turned the heat up just a little bit and sat the top back on them. I poked and prodded...........Just when I thought that all was lost ......BOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM they exploded.

Yeap you heard me. They exploded, all over my perfect sisters perfect kitchen. In her hair, my hair, on the ceiling and walls every where. There were yams dripping from my white sweater dress, her white curtains, the walls. There wasn't any place that those yams didn't land on. They even covered the top of that perfect turkey. The only place that there wasn't yams was inside the oven............

So the moral of my story is.............when the Corell ware says "from the freezer, to the oven, stove top and to the table." They don't mean literally all at once................

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