Who likes dark meat?

Maybe it’s the French in me,  but there is nothing more fun than a double entendre. Get it? I did, twice. Anyway, this Thanksgiving, as everybody else was busy telling (via social media, not in person) all their besties how thankful they are to have them in their life, I decided to be a little more honest and sent out this message, “Today I plan to enjoy a little dark meat, maybe a breast or two and, of course, some stuffing.” Maybe it’s the Southern in me, but I just love dark meat. One friend, who knows me well, replied, “Sounds like a nice spread.” He gets me.

 

MyFace had invited me to her place for dinner and I graciously accepted the offer. “What can I bring?” I asked. “Just a bottle, not a box, of wine,” she replied. I don’t know why MyFace hates on the box so much. Sleepless loves the box, can’t get enough of it. Nontheless, I did as she suggested and, just to prove I am a woman of class, I also brought a bottle of  Dom Pérignon Vintage 1999.

 

“Is it a fake?” MyFace asked. “No, it’s not a fake,” I replied. “How is it spelled? With a ‘m’ or a ‘n’?” Handsome Cowboy asked as they were inspecting the bottle as if I had purchased it from someone in Times Square. “Just so you know,” I advised them, in retaliation, “I resealed that wine bottle and the wine in there is from a box. Ha!”

 

Handsome Cowboy went out to tend to the horses while MyFace, her son and I drank and watched football. “Cowboys on Thanksgiving is a must have,” MyFace advised me. As they watched the game, I made observations, “Unnecessary roughness? Is there such thing as necessary roughness? Good thing the stripes on the referees’ shirts are vertical, horizontal stripes aren’t flattering. Who doesn’t like a tight end?” I’ve no doubt my commentary was very much appreciated.

 

MyFace is very passionate about the Cowboys and has taught her son to be the same. As a result, while watching the game, MyFace had to remind him to watch his language, “Handsome Cowboy doesn’t like cussing.” “You should remind him it’s Thanksgiving – the one day when fowl language is acceptable,” I advised her.

 

After enjoying a nice spread, MyFace and I sat down to watch a little television. “What do you want to watch?” she asked. “I don’t care. I really don’t watch much television,” I told her. “Oh, look at this, I love this! What a great way to end Thanksgiving day,” she said as she selected Rocky Horror Picture Show. She was right. From touchdowns to touch-a-touch-a- touch-a touch me, we had really scored!

 

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