A Drumstick for Mel

"What part of a turkey sings?"
"Hell-if-I-know."
 "The drumstick."
 Little did I know that the drumstick of a turkey would play a big part in this Thanksgiving Story of 2016.
Olivia, age six, is always provides me with riddles or jokes she had learned in Daycare. And this Thanksgiving was no exception. My son-in-law and daughter spent the early evening getting two turkeys pasted and padded down with flavoring for the our Thanksgiving meal. Derik had enough time to unload a refrigerator and place it inside my apartment before returning us to his new home in Long Beach.
  I played Simple Simon with my two granddaughters Olivia and Allison before my daughter bellowed: "Turkey Time." We sat at the table, well almost all of us except Olivia who grabbed another biscuit from the corner.
  On the kitchen counter, to my right sat several drumsticks. I knew my brother Mel would be delighted as Sea Cliff Nursing Home in Huntington Beach provides meager dinners and not much meat. Somebody told me once it was a home for midgets. I have augmented his sparse diet with burgers and items from Panda Express, a block from the Florida Street Nursing Home.
Excuse me while I dig into the turkey leg, with stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberries. Everyone dug into this turkey meal, all except Olivia who dallied and toyed with her biscuit. I had never seen her ever eat turkey meat.
  "Olivia only eats peanut butter and jelly sandwiches...I know because there are no aunts in her lunch pail." I nodded to Lauren while I ripped a wing from the turkey. I pulled and struggled but finally the wing parted company with the body.
  Then I winged it, Without teeth, I mashed and swirled the meat inside my toothless mouth. Olivia wished to get into the act so I gave part of my wing to her...And guess what? She copied me and ate her first piece of meat.
   Derik climbed  upstairs for his midlife nap, and soon to follow by his two urchins, Olivia and Allison. And by-golly, he deserved it since his craft at cooking is on par as Picasso is to art.  Lauren and I talked while she put the extras in plastic cartons and I took a second helping of pumpkin pie
   "Would you like to go home now or later?"
    The preparation for this sumptuous meal may have exhausted her She must have been exhausted from this dinner since she forgot to take her cell phone. I had placed the extras and four drumstick in the backseat. We returned to Florida Street and she waited  for me to remove my key. I placed the extras in the refrigerator and removed one drum stick for Mel.
    I walked the block up the street to the Sea Cliff Health Center. Mel half-asleep heard me enter room two. 'Did you bring it?"
    I dropped the drumstick on a mobile eating tray and he didn't need any encouragement to grab the leg. Wow...Wow...Wow. This is the best turkey I have ever eaten. Wow! In no time his two remaining front teeth sliced and cut through the veins of the turkey. Then he began to eat the bone.
    "George all they gave me were a few scraps of turkey. Make sure you bring another leg for me tomorrow. When last seen, Mel was singing, and why not. to the drum of the turkey leg.

(It appears that Mr. Sweetness may have read my blog. For the last two meals Mel ate a cup of coup and a slice of a pepper pizza. The head honcho at the Sea Cliff Health Spa threw him out of bed two in the first hallways and carried him to the hospice section in the rear of the resort.)