It's that time of year. Time when all good little kindergarteners make Pilgrim or Native American costumes and enjoy a Charlie Brown-type Thanksgiving feast: popcorn, crackers, and the like. Quinn had his class feast today and looked smashing as Robert Wilson (whoever that is...no doubt a dapper young man listed on the Mayflower's manifesto).
Recently, my little kinder-kid also brought home a book the class put together, entitled How to Catch and Cook a Thanksgiving Turkey. Each child was interviewed by the teacher and answered four questions: How do you catch a turkey? How do you clean a turkey? How do you cook a turkey? and How do you serve a turkey?
To catch a turkey, many of Q's classmates thought chasing after it with a net would be helpful. One girl, the one who loves horses, thought you could rope it rodeo-style. Only one kid mentioned this method: "look for it, grab it by the neck, and then chop its head off." One kid. Mine.
Sigh.
Should I be worried? Does he harbor a heretofore unknown violent streak? Where he get this stuff, I have no idea. I've never even let him watch newconferences done in Alaska.
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