I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
December 13, 2009
>We had planned today to go to Bethlehem.
Once a year, a church here in Nashville fills its entire first floor with sand and uses lamps and tents to create an authentic-looking Middle Eastern bazaar, circa 1 AD. The kids learn about traditional customs and foods and make little dolls, which they then give to baby Jesus at the living nativity outside.
We had planned to go there today. In fact, it was the children’s Christmas event I was most looking forward to. However, the moment we left, both kids fell asleep and when we arrived, the line was at least two hours long. The cards clearly were stacked against us… and so we did what anyone else would have done.
We went to see The Crazy Turkey.
The Crazy Turkey lives at WSMV, where my husband works. He was once part of a flock of wild turkeys, and one of the employees discovered that if he did a turkey call, one of them would run straight for his car, smitten by his own appearance in the car’s hubcaps.
Apparently, something about that experience made the synaptic connections in the turkey’s brain go haywire. Within a few weeks, he had left his turkey friends, opting instead to stand constant watch at the entrance of WSMV so that he could charge any cars that came down the drive.
When we arrived at the station this afternoon, he was waiting for us. We slowed down and, as usual, he headed right for our hubcap.
We rolled down the window and his happy gobbling was enough to wake up the kids.
Punky was so inspired, she decided to name him. “Turkey” was the name she chose, because she is very clever and creative.
I’m not sure this will become an annual tradition, mainly because I doubt the turkey will make it to next Christmas. His new pastime isn’t exactly conducive to a long life.
Next year, we’ll treat the kids to live camels and donkeys and angels and a real Mary and Joseph. But this year, they’ll just have to make do with one Crazy Turkey. Named Turkey.
Why we haven’t gotten any awards for Parents of the Year I’ll never know.
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