Blood Bath in the Kitchen

Back when I was a naive newlywed I thought it was my duty as a wife to slave in the kitchen and create extravagant meals for my dear and beloved husband every day. My husband and I lived together before we got married and he did all the cooking. For some strange reason after we got married I felt like I had to start preparing our meals. Unfortunately for my husband I am not skillfully inclined in the kitchen.

A few months after we got married I woke up one morning feeling rather optimistic. I thought to myself, "Today I am going to make my husband a turkey." Now, I had never actually made a turkey before, but it couldn't be that difficult, right? I set off to the grocery store and bought my very first turkey. It wasn't a very large turkey since it was just for the two of us. I also bought a box of Stove Top Stuffing and a can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce as our side dishes. Yes, I was going all out for that meal!

As soon as I got home I put on my apron, ready to begin making this extravagant meal for my new husband. He was going to be so proud of me. I plopped my turkey in the sink, took off the wrapping and set it aside because the directions were printed on it. The first thing I needed to do was take out "the bag of guts." Cringing, I stuck my hand in the slimy turkey and felt around. I didn't feel anything. I kept moving my hand all around the inside of the turkey, but no luck. I tried to look inside to see if I could find it, but couldn't because it was so dark in there. I went and got a flashlight hoping that with a little light I might be able to see "the bag of guts." Again, no luck. After 10 minutes of trying to find "the bag of guts" I figured that Butterball did me a favor and already took out the guts for me.

I took the next step and rinsed my turkey, patted it dry, put it in a pan with some foil over it, and gently put it into my oven. I set the timer for 20 minutes a pound, so my turkey would be finished just as my hungry husband would be getting home from work. Sadly, I didn't know that the turkey was frozen when I put it in the oven. No where on the directions did it say that the turkey was frozen or that I needed to thaw it first. This was going to be a huge problem come dinner time!

Several hours later it was time for me to take my turkey out of the oven. When I pulled it out it didn't look quite right. I decided to put it back in for a few more minutes without the foil. I thought it needed to brown a little bit more. My husband came home from work right on time. I greeted him at the door with a giant grin, proudly telling him that I made us a "Thanksgiving Dinner" because I was so thankful for him. I told him to have a seat at the table, that I would carve the turkey and we'd be eating shortly.

I pulled the turkey out of the oven again and got out my new carving knife. We received it as a wedding gift and I finally had the opportunity to use it. As I began carving the turkey, the blood began to pour out. I cut it a little bit more and discovered that there actually was a "bag of guts" inside! Oops! Well, I kept cutting and the blood kept pouring. Being a rookie in the kitchen, I was cutting the turkey in a disposable aluminum baking dish . . . NOT on a cutting board. My kife was going through the bottom of the dish, so the blood began pouring out the bottom of the pan. Before I knew it, my entire kitchen counter was covered in blood and it started to trickle on to the floor. It looked like someone had been murdered in my kitchen! There was blood everywhere! Once I realized that there was a blood bath in my kitchen I had a meltdown. I threw my carving knive in the sink and started to cry . . . actually, sob. I was standing in a puddle of blood bawling my head off.

My husband heard me crying and came into the kitchen to see why I was crying. I felt like a complete and total failure as a wife. Being the sweet and caring man that he is, he came over and gave me a big hug, saying that it was the thought that counted. I looked up at him with my big crocodile tears and we both started laughing. We decided to leave the crime scene and go get some sushi.

That was the first and last time I ever attempted to cook a turkey. To this day, when ever I make steak or chicken for dinner I ask my husband to check it and make sure it's cooked all the way.