Abi and I (Lena) were on our way back from our friend's apartment, having retrieved our turkey (which was too big for our freezer) which I had been calling, "Lester." I thought I was quite funny.
Abi started to ask me about Lester, asking if he belonged to someone. Having been down this pet vs. yummy food to eat road before, I easily handled this one. I told her that some animals are pets, and some don't belong to anyone, and we don't eat the pet kind. She seemed satisfied with that answer, and I congratulated myself on having been matter of fact about the whole thing.
When we got home, I went about getting Lester ready for the oven. I got him out of his nice plastic jacket, just like they have at home in the States. I always get a little bit of pre-turkey jitters, as cooking it involves things called "giblets," and the stakes are so high. I reached in to get the packet of "giblets." Success. There seemed to be quite a few things inside there. Maybe some "niblets," too? Now for the neck-- I saw a little bit of neck sticking out, pulled, and--OH MY. THE HEAD WAS ATTACHED!! Lester was a real turkey! With a head! And there it was! I let out a tortured yelp and dropped the Lester head. And his feet were in there, too! I had to leave for a while to gather my bearings. I left them all in the utility sink, and the little ones kept slinking in to take a look at the CSI: Turkey Edition. Sarah got disgusted with all the morbidity of them skulking around, and told them to stop, but too late. Will could barely down Lest-- I mean the turkey. Lesson of the day: never underestimate the power of a styrofoam tray (or plastic jacket in a turkey's case) in making you think that it never had a head. I know. It's a gem.
A side note: Bill was my hero and cut Lester's head off the neck so I could use the neck meat and the "giblets" to make my first real gravy. It rocked.