Don't Eat That!

Thanksgiving is upon us. Friends, family, food. All gathered round the table adorned with my annual, original, edible cornucopia (that I maybe copied out of Women’s World magazine), piles of peas, mountains of mashed potatoes and the perfectly roasted and sliced Butterball turkey. And our oldest and dearest friend, happily snitching pieces of my edible cornucopia just because its so amazingly edible.

But as I’m preparing for this perfect day of friendship and harmony, I got a telephone call that really made me worry about how I should approach my menu this year. The school principal called to tell me that my child had dipped a friend’s pen in a chemical in chemistry class. The friend then proceeded to eat the pen. So my child was being disciplined for disobeying the teacher who had told them to not dip pens in chemicals. And also for endangering the other student who ate the pen. The other student did not get in trouble for eating the pen. The teacher never ordered them not to eat their schoolbooks and other related paraphernalia.

I explained that I was all for punishment over rule breaking but thought the endangerment part was to the point of ridiculous. After all, if I decided to go chew on the janitor’s mop, the janitor had not endangered me because I had eaten Mop-n-Glow....along with every other substance his tasty mop had to offer. But the principal told me I was over the top, because people eat pens all the time. Yes, although I had always been taught to keep most non-edible things out of my mouth, I suppose some people tend to eat hardware. My father swallowed a nail once while hammering. We never knew what happened to it. He never wanted to enlighten us.

I remember when pregnant with my oldest, the doctor handed me a pamphlet instructing if I had a habit for eating spray starch while ironing, I should discontinue while pregnant. Now this particular practice had never crossed my mind. But now looking at my spray starch can, it claims to have a soothing fresh scent and guaranteed not to flake, stick, or clog. I suppose those attributes could benefit a person. It also has patented FibrEnhancer. Old people could save a fortune on Metamucil before they died of patented polymer propellant poisoning.

This made me hurry for a quick Google of my Thanksgiving feast. I wouldn’t want to injure my guests unintentionally. Especially since I tend to invite everyone I meet to come share the day, so I don’t always know their eating habits.

I learned that feral children, raised by wolves tend to wolf down their food. Thank goodness I had just purchased some new knives. I would make sure and cut the wolf children’s portions in small, chewable pieces so they wouldn’t choke. And I should probably make sure to stick some bananas in my cornucopia. Just in case Tarzan showed up, too.

Also I know that my son’s girlfriend stuck a pea up her nose once and had to have it surgically removed. I guess I should not offer peas this Thanksgiving. People do tend to stick peas up their noses. I wouldn’t want to have her parents call the Man with the Hat because I had endangered their daughter by tempting her with peas again.

Once my mother put too many flakes in the mashed potato mix. This made them really dense and heavy and, upon hitting your stomach acid, the potatoes exploded into full blown fluffiness, causing extreme distended stomachs for about six solid hours. I better nix the mashed potatoes this year. Don’t want my mother accidentally blowing up my company.

Then my daughter has a friend that always eats her chicken bones. I always remind him of the dog that lived down the street that howled pitifully because it ate a chicken bone and it lodged in its throat for a decade. I better buy the boneless breast of turkey so no one decides to eat the entire drumstick.

And, of course, this year I’ve been rather busy and was going to opt for buying a cornucopia rather than baking my edible one. But heaven forbid! If our dear friend decides to wolf down my laquer sprayed, corn husk, Michael’s special, because he has enjoyed eating my cornucopia every year and was possibly raised by wolves, I could never, ever enjoy his company at Thanksgiving again.

Happy Holidays!