Ah, turkey day is finally here...It's just after midnight here and I've finished prep for the night. I raced through gridlock to pick up the deep fried turkey from Spring Street Smoke House . I've made three desserts: a marble cheesecake, peanut butter eyeballs, and non-dairy pudding (which isn't quite becoming pudding; I think because of the soy milk we used). Heather cleaned a most of the apartment, and Winnie, as usual, sat around and licked her crotch.
Anyway, I wanted to share an amusing memory from about 12-13 years ago. A little set up: we still lived in New Jersey, and for those who don't know, my Mom was Jewish. It was just before Thanksgiving and my Mom was at some sort of school function for me. She ran into a classmate's mother. This other mother was a big part of her church and very religious.
The woman jabbered away about her Thanksgiving plans, and then asked my Mom, "Janice, you're Jewish. What do you do for Thanksgiving?" My Mom, obviously, was taken aback by the question, but she didn't miss a beat, telling the woman, "We don't celebrate Thanksgiving. We fast and pray all day." The woman left, satisfied with her answer. Hopefully, she never found out the truth and asked another Jew about their Thanksgiving day of fasting and prayer.