“I killed the turkey,” Duck came into my office looking a little shocked.

“Surely you didn’t kill it,” I let out a little giggle. We walked out on the back deck and he opened the lid to his grill. The turkey was on fire. Let me just say it again, the turkey was on fire! At first I thought it was maybe just the spices, the skin part that was burning, but I quickly realized the whole turkey was on fire.

Evidently one gas tank had run out. He switched it with a full tank, and turned the heat up so it would get back up to 300 degrees. When he went back out to check on it, he realized he’d turned the heat up too much and the turkey had caught on fire.

I wanted to laugh, but Duck’s ego was bruised badly. He turned the gas off to the grill and just shut the lid to let the turkey burn in peace. “I’m sorry, honey. Wanna go get another turkey? We can try again.” Nothing I said seemed to help. He went and called his mom to let her know we wouldn’t be bringing a turkey for lunch. I wanted to take a picture of it because the whole turkey was burnt up! But I didn’t push the issue. Duck wanted to get it out of his sight as quickly as possible and after he was sure it wasn’t on fire any more, he threw it in the trash.

Although he rarely, and I mean rarely, messes up anything (he’s always right and never lost — only misplaced) — I’m thankful that he eventually is able to laugh at himself and I’m thankful he gave me permission to blog about this

Oh yeah, I’m thankful for Bojangles chicken too — and that they were open Thanksgiving day I wonder how many other people have turkey stories like this!