Well, the image is just that. An image.
For many, many years, I have roasted a turkey for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Seems to me I managed to mess it up in as many years.
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At least, I think, there will be a Christmas dinner. It will be perfect this year. It better be. Friends and family are joining us.
![Picture](/uploads/2/8/4/1/28416037/published/christmas-freedom-from-want-nara-513539.jpg?1544647087)
![Picture](/uploads/2/8/4/1/28416037/published/66092122christmas-stock-vector-family-dinner-happy-extended-family-having-thanksgiving-dinner.jpg?1544648046)
Okay. So now the roasted turkey is ready. Friends and family are gathered around the dining table buzzing with excitement over this most extravagant meal on this most exciting day.
I’m in a hurry...last minute herbal additions to the gravy to raise it to the gourmet level...then heat it up again…
OMG! The hot pot slips from my hand. Said pot spills gravy. I watch horrified---suspended in a time warp---as a slimy, brown, murky, hot viscous liquid mercilessly slithers like a prehistoric reptile across the tiles on my kitchen floor. I’m about to scream but I hear the peaceful strains of “Silent Night” in the background.
I stand there. Defeated. I hear ripples of anticipation from buzzing dinner guests awaiting the anointed bird and its accoutrements.
Christmas magic?! I don’t think so!