Gobbling Towards Vegetarianism

It became November.

Day Two, I said: OMG THE TURKEY!

Because this year, we’re hosting the beloved horde.

I navigated to the Whole Foods website. During the Diestel ordering process I was asked to choose: Hen or Tom.

My bedroom office went dark. I heard a crazy woman scream: Who let Sophie’s Choice in here! I can’t, I won’t–THE TOM THE TOM I CHOOSE THE TOM!

I have a feeling this is my last turkey year. Because I’m married to a vegetarian AND have a picky-eater Kindergartner, much of his pickiness revolving around meat? Because I give money to WWF, The Mustang Society, the African elephants, the beleaguered tigers, the homeless pot-bellied pigs and rescued McDonald’s chickens? Because of the movies I watch: Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead, Forks Over Knives, Supersize Me, and so many more? Because I’m basically perpetually Paleo dieting anyway, without the meat? Because I’d rather eat kale-rolled-granola than a creature so young he belongs with his mama?



Beware of hypocrisy, warns the very Tom I’ll be picking up the day before Thanksgiving. Food for thought. Think before you eat? Off with his head!

About PB Rippey

Writer, wife, mother, grateful. Fiction, memoir, poetry, kidlit (MG), member SCBWI. pbwrites.wordpress.com
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1 Response to Gobbling Towards Vegetarianism

  1. Beth Hull says:

    Hmm, food for thought. It’s easier not to think, but that not thinking has gotten harder now that I live with a vegetarian, too.

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