Awkward
It happens like this more than I’d probably care to admit. How do I tell them, so innocent and feathery, that it is not their kin they smell humbled under the lid. And why is it they always have to show up when it seems they have every right to. That’s not fair. And just a little awkward for everybody.
This entry was posted on December 29, 2012 by Patrons of the Pit. It was filed under Uncategorized and was tagged with barbecue, bbq, charcoal, chicken, goose, grilling, humor, meat, outdoor cooking, pit, poetry, smoked turkey, turkey, weber.
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