What can I say? My mom set a bad example for us when we were impressionable young children. She played with our food. Mostly poultry, really. Whenever she was preparing a whole chicken or turkey she'd make the uncooked bird "dance", holding it by it's wings and spinning it around the sink. Turns out that my brother and I were both deeply touched by this little ritual, cause we both dance our birds around, too. And Zion? Loves it. He came home early from the park today so he could see the turkey dance, something he's been looking forward to since Monday, when I brought it home from the store.
As I wrestled the 19 lb bird around the sink in a kind of awkward shuffle Zion had a smile on his face that most kids would probably get from visiting Disneyland. I kid you not, I wasn't just making his day, I was making his week. After a couple of dances the great bird obligingly flew over to the roasting pan, where I rubbed it with butter, salt, and pepper. "That's right, turkey!", Zion said encouragingly, "Now you will be delicious! Mama, can I eat his wing?"
PS. In case you're interested, my mom was delighted to hear she'd started such an excellent family tradition, and informed me that she herself had danced the turkey she was preparing this morning. And when Zion woke up from his nap he asked if he could have the turkey's right leg, too. To go with the right wing. We gave him both, and he gnawed happily at each in turn- my perfect little gentleman!