Single Mom Of 10 Went To Get A Turkey, Got Huge Surprise Instead

[Huffington Post]

My children expect a damn turkey at Thanksgiving. I got my first turkey at Bother’s Market way back before Rufus, my firstborn, arrived. I was fifteen at the time. Thanksgiving was coming on and my ma sent me down to the market to buy a turkey.

To my surprise, Mr. Bother did not want to take my money. To my surprise, he told me to keep the money for my own and not tell my ma. Mr. Bother told me that I could “earn” the turkey.

It wasn’t hard to do. It was a little uncomfortable, Mr. Bother being a big man, but it didn’t take long and soon I was on my way with the turkey and the turkey money too.

My next surprise came a little bit later when I learned I was in the family way. Ma had twelve of us herself at the time and no man in the house. She told me one more wouldn’t make any difference.

I spent the turkey money on underwear and flip-flops.

The next year, Ma sent me back to get another turkey . She didn’t give me any money this time so I guess when my underwear and flip-flops showed up, she figured out what had happened.

I earned another turkey and nine months later, my Edie-May was born.

What I’m saying is, after ten years of turkeys, a mother has the right to expect another one the next Thanksgiving. Ten children, ages one through ten, were at home waiting with their little mouths watering.

But Mr. Bother told me that Pearl, a fifteen-year-old from down in the hollow, had just earned my turkey for herself. Mr. Bother said that if I swept out the back room, I could earn a chicken, but that was the best he could do. My mouth just dropped open. Was it a huge surprise? Dang right it was. I was angry, disgusted, and frustrated.

I took the chicken, but I also came back the next day. I waited in the shade across the street from the market and when Baylee-Ann, who is fourteen, went into the store and Mr. Bother flipped the sign on the front door to Closed, I waited a few minutes and then went in and grabbed my turkey.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: