Holiday Highlight

The bird was abnormally savory.  The homemade stuffing (a la old, Hungarian family recipe) was so addictive that I suspected my Mom accidentally tipped her bottle of Vicadin into the prep bowl.  Her fresh cranberry dressing made with Grand Marnier added to my breezy buzz first initiated by the bottle of Moet.  The pecan pie was so *moist* and delectable...it almost took the cake.

In my opinion, however, the highlight of our Thanksgiving feast came somewhere in between the last dollop of cranberry sauce was doled out, and the ceremonious pie slicing commenced.  My Father, amidst conversations about politics, policy, and production of wine, lifted up his shirt and demanded everyone at the table to look at the youthful brunette color of his chest hairs, thanks to the Human Growth Hormone he's been squirting under his tongue with a hospital issue syringe for the past few months.  We were all invited to stroke the plush canopy of fur blanketing my Dad's mid-section, and then examined the few remaining gray hairs nestled in-between the healthy crop of new hair.  A magnifying glass was provided as a visual aid.

Now tell me, what Thanksgiving celebration would be complete without that?

Comments

[Dr. Uzi Bodman]

Did your pops pull down his speedo as well to show new growth down there as well?

[Chef Pot Roast]

I must admit that your first sentence sounds oddly strange coming from you!