Turkey Talk Revisited

There is something about this time of year that makes me more accident prone than usual.  I said "more" because my family will tell you that I'm a little accident prone all the time.  I'm going to revisit an earlier post, "Turkey Talk" that describes some of my past Thanksgiving mishaps.

It isn't even Thanksgiving and it's already started.  Last Thursday I finally persuaded my husband to get rid of the HUGE TV in the living room. The TV worked fine, but the remote was compromised since one of my grandchildren had eaten off the buttons at the top.  Every time the lights flickered, I had to move the batteries around and stick a toothpick in the remote where the missing buttons were.

You may have one.  This TV is about 15 years old and must weigh 900 pounds. ( I exaggerate)
It looks like kind of a square flat screen from the front. Oh, but looks can be deceiving.  There is a gigantic triangular part growing out of its back.

So we tried to pick it up and it was too heavy.  We brought my trusty Rubbermaid wheel barrow into the house, and the plan was to slowly ease the TV off the stand and into the wheel barrow.  One, two, three, pick up.

"Oh, my gosh Howard I can hold it!  It's cutting into my hands.  I have to put it down."

"Well, put it down then and we'll try again."

"Oh, my hands, I can't hold it, I'm going to drop it.  Oh my hands!"

Mine was bigger, but you get the idea.

I drop my side and it lands right on the instep of my right foot.

"Oh my foot!  Get it off my foot!"

He just looks at me, amazed at my inability to help move things.

"Get it off my foot!!!"

My foot immediately turns blue.  I honestly don't remember how he got it in the wheel barrow, but he did, and we wheeled it outside and had to pick it up again to get it in the back of the truck. I'm so glad the TV on the counter weighs 6.5 pounds. I've still got almost a week to go and hope nothing else happens.

Here are some other accident-prone memories.

About 1992, when we still lived in town. I had put a turkey in the oven in one of those roasting bags. When it was finally done and falling apart, the following scene took place.

Me:  Thank goodness it's done.  (I open the over door)

Howard:  Stand back. You know you are too clumsy to take that out of the oven without dropping it. (He reaches in and grabs the pan.)

SPLAT

Hayley:  (About 11 years old)  Olivia, Jason, come quick!  Daddy dropped the turkey on the floor!  Hahahahahahahaha.

Me:  Great.

Another one

About 1996.  I'm cleaning up the kitchen and washing the electric knife that I had carefully used to slice the turkey, without incident.  I reach across for something and slice my finger on the clean blade. Blood is going everywhere.  It looks like the Dan Akroyd  version of Julie Child on Saturday Night Live.

Me:  I think I need a cold towel.

Jason:  Oh man, you really sliced it.

Howard:  (From his recliner, not looking)  Do you need a bandaid?

Jason:  I think it's a little late for a bandaid.  I can see white stuff in there.

Me:  I think I better go get some stitches.

Howard:  Emergency Room! Your favorite place.  

Jason takes me to the ER and they don't take me immediately. 

We wait.  They finally call me.

Jason:  Can you tell them to hurry. I really didn't plan to spend all night here. I have plans.

Me:  I'll try. Sigh

Happy Thanksgiving. May there be no turkeys on the floor, blood on the counter or TVs on your feet.  Thanks for letting me post this turkey rerun.