I've started brining the turkey for Thanksgiving, and every day I have to go and turn the turkey and check to make sure it's thawing properly and that the level of wine, water and spices stays high enough to keep the whole thing covered.
And today I invited Caroline to go with me to the icebox to look while I turn and check the bird. She really doesn't like turkey, but lately I have been letting her observe and help with the cooking and prep; I figure if she's involved in the kitchen, then she'll be more likely to appreciate the art that goes into cooking and, in turn, this picky little eater will be more likely to actually eat.
AM I BRILLIANT, OR WHAT?
Now, I'm pretty sure she only agreed to go and watch because, hello, she is 9 and there are raw body parts on display (fascinating stuff, carnage) but that's OK. Not to worry. Everyone just stand back and watch the Mommy-Magic--I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING.
So, I opened the icebox, flipped the turkey over, and began explaining to her what spices I've used and what I'm looking for every day during the brining. Just at that most opportune moment, a nice, large, black peppercorn floated out of the turkey's tail end.
YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN A CHILD'S FACE DISPLAY SUCH DISGUST.
She performed a rapid about-face and went screaming back to Calvin,
"Dad! Daaaaaad! The turkey POOPED! Dad! I SAW POOP COME OUT OF THE TURKEY'S BUTT! EWWWWWWW!"
So much for my brilliant little plan. Damn.