...and why that award should be swiftly taken away

Or, as an alternate blog post title: The Day Anika Learned to Love Thanksgiving

It all started out grand. We went to the pumpkin patch, a little worse for the wear as teething had us up all night and she has a mysterious owie under her right eye that seems to have appeared from outer space, but all in all excited to experience this little bit of fall just as the leaves are beginning to turn and the mornings and evenings are a bit cooler.

She dug the bunnies and the horses and the mini John Deeres and the photo ops:

Then we got to the turkey pen. She REALLY thought the turkeys were cool.

Unfortunately, so did one of the hens. You can see how interested she is here:

And watch how she moves in stealthy in this shot (ah, hindsight....)

And then, in for a little taste before I had to throw the camera and save my daughter's finger:

Yes, folks, I stood there like an idiot snapping pictures while I let my daughter put her fingers directly in front of a turkey's beak. I am THAT STUPID. Now, granted, she's not a tiger or anything, and I think the shock hurt more than the peck did, but I had no idea how long a turkey could hold onto a finger. Perhaps she thought it would come off at some point and would prove a tasty snack.

Anyway, Reni was crying at this point too so you can imagine the scene around this Mother of the Year. (Incidentally, Reni is proving to be quite the empathetic little man. Unison crying is becoming more and more the norm around here. And it's as fun as you think.)

So we skipped the face painting and the picking out the pumpkin. I let her have as much of my iced latte as she wanted and we all high-tailed it to the car faster than you can say giddeup. Our mom's group is going back this week; we may try again. But this time, we'll be strolling past the turkey pen at a safe distance, and banging turkey basters against roasting pans right in their line of sight.