Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

How Beci Got Her Head Stuck in a Turkey

Short story By: kukaburry

Tags: Holiday, Humor

Our favorite holidays always end with dead animals on our heads.

Submitted:May 27, 2010    Reads: 112    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

I remember that Thanksgiving like it was yesterday. The turkey sitting on counter, waiting to be stuffed, the dog laying on his bed, staring beadily at the lone turkey, and I'm on the couch watching Seinfeld from a tape my mom had recorded the night before. I take a sip of French vanilla coffee and chew on a poppy seed bagel, just then remembering that I was supposed to buy a blueberry muffin for my little sister. Knowing that she won't remember the muffin anyways, I put the thought out of my mind. A loud grunt right above my head startles me. It was hard to remember that Grandpa George was there for the week, finally finding time to visit his last remaining family members.

"Amanda! Can you heat me up some oatmeal?" Beci yelled at me from the top of the stairs. Mom wouldn't let her touch any 'dangerous' appliance in the house-and for good reason.

"Okay!" I shouted from my sitting position, trying to force my legs to move (I told you she would forget about the muffin). I finally removed myself from that comfortable position and began making Beci her nasty, chewy oatmeal. Instant Quaker Oats is what my mother believes to be a 'balanced breakfast', and she used to insist that I eat it-that is, until I tried feeding it to Buster, our dog, and even he stuck his nose up at it.

Still wrapped in a red and black checkered nightgown, Beci ran and slid across the kitchen tiles, right into the garage door where she sprawled on the floor, laughing. Rolling my eyes, I stare at the timer on the microwave, relieved to find it had two seconds left. I remove the bowl and place it on the counter next to the turkey. Buster licked his lips loudly from the pad by the door.

Amanda smashed the bowl on the counter and stomped off back to her couch. She seemed to be in a bad mood, but I didn't care, it was Thanksgiving, and I had no school! All I could think about was tasty cinnamon oatmeal sitting, steaming in front of me. I grabbed it and rushed over to my favorite leather rocking chair. The fun part about it was that, if you jumped on it, it was like a surfboard, and it amused me to no end.

Amanda was watching that stupid show, Seinfeld. Kramer was dressed up as Ben Franklin in another one of his plots. "Why are you watching this, it's dumb?" I complained, wanting to watch the new Pokemon show that had started last week. "Can't I watch cartoons?"

"No. Mom taped this show for me and I want to watch it so leave me alone brat." She took the remote off the coffee table and hid it between the sofa seats so I couldn't get it.

A whiff of vanilla reached my nose, and I saw something creamy and white in a cup next to my sister's elbow. "Hey, is that good?" I asked, reaching for the cup. She shrugged, not caring what I was talking about. I grabbed the cup and took a sip, thinking it would taste like white chocolate. It scalded my tongue first, causing me to yelp in pain, but then the taste sunk in and I realized how horrible it really was. I jumped off the rocking chair and ran around the house, trying not to throw up.

I finally decided to fill a cup with water and downed it in one gulp, washing away the horrible taste. Right then, mom stumbled down the stairs groggily and cursed under her breath, "Beci what are you doing?"

I watch as Beci's eyes fill up with tears and recognize a hissy fit beginning to start. "Amanda made me drink her coffee and it almost killed me!" She hollered screechily.

I knew Beci was probably overreacting, but Amanda was in a really bad mood this week, so I didn't feel like arguing. "Ok sweetie, go get some more water." I ushered her upstairs and turned a stern face towards Amanda. "Amanda, why did you do that to Beci? You know she doesn't know better."

Amanda's face turned redder, "I did not tell her to drink it. She just took it mother." I knew that tone. It was the angry teenager tone I got at least five times a week.

I heard Beci sneak back downstairs to listen to Amanda get yelled at. "Yes, but you didn't try to stop her did you?"

Amanda tried to argue back, but a loud squeal from behind me caught me off-guard. Beci was running around with the turkey on top of her head, and Buster stood with his paws on the countertop, nipping at the turkey's legs.

And that is how Beci got her head stuck in a turkey.


| Email this story Email this Short story | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.