Well, my Grandmother passed away two nights ago. I don't feel up to writing about her again just yet, so I am going to share a Thanksgiving anecdote with you all.
Yet again, my daughter is not very much like I was as a kid, in so many ways. She inquired of me the other day who had killed our Thanksgiving turkey, and wondered if it had been workers at the grocery store.
I told her, in the broadest terms, that the turkey had been killed at a slaughterhouse, which is a place dedicated to the killing of animals for people to eat. She nodded thoughtfully, then asked me, Are the organs included in the turkey?
I told her that yes, they often are, and that if she wanted to, she could dissect the ones that came in our turkey.
Because that's my kid. I would have cried if someone had explained slaughterhouses to me at age four, and probably never eaten meat again. But Maeve is excited about dissecting turkey organs. I guess the acorn falls pretty far from the tree sometimes.