They have no idea what month it is.

Either that, or they know that I’d rather throw day-old bread at them than pop a cap in their backside and dress them out for a fancy dinner later this month, because they just keep sitting on the fence along our yard.

Early this morning, I counted eighteen of them on that fence.  By this afternoon, when I grabbed my camera, there were only two turkeys lingering around, like two girls at Starbucks who just can’t quit talking long enough to actually head home.

Thing 2 loves to holler at them.  He yells, “Gurkey!  Gurkey!  GURKEY!!!”  That’s usually all the motivation they need to hop on down off the fence, flap their feathers in a FREE-RANGE TODDLER IN THE VICINITY sort of panic, and migrate somewhere else for a bit.  I’m pretty sure that they know what would happen if Thing 2 got his hands on one of them.

I told the turkeys today, “Don’t worry… we’re planning on buying SOMEONE YOU DON’T KNOW from the grocery store later this week!”

They saluted me and asked me if I had any more of that stale Wonder Bread in my pantry.