It was probably inevitable. I’m sure all women engaged in a marital union with a handsome silver-fox must face the day when someone tries to steal their man with compete disregard for his long-time companion and true love waiting at home. Those brazen hussies only want a slice of the fox and will stop at nothing to get him. Well, for me, that time has come, and I want the record to state that I am not going down without a fight. Debby the Horny Turkey is after my man and she will stop at nothing.
If you remember dear reader, I introduced you to Debby a few months back when she began a whorin’ in my yard with her squad of sassy hens, lookin’ for love with a tom named Tom Selleck Turkey. (ICYMI Here’s the tale) While Debby’s actions were classless at that time, culminating in Debby standing on my front step and screaming what I could only imagine was a love-call for Tom, I assumed Debby’s love was reserved to only those of the avian variety. It now appears I might have been mistaken. But the question is, did my husband know?
Months prior, upon hearing of Debby’s strange love cry my husband, the Turk, who was working across the driveway in his garage office at the time, chuckled and said, “Maybe she knock wrong door. I think she looking for me. You know…hot Turk…not turkey.” We all laughed it off as the lame dad joke it was and we didn’t see Debby around again. Logic and Google said she was incubating her young ‘uns next to the cranberry bogs behind our house for the next several weeks. I assumed as a new mother, Debby would make good choices and this chapter was closed. But then, she started showing up again.
I began to get suspicious a few weeks ago when we took a family trip out on the Cape for lunch. We stopped at a Cape Cod visitors’ center for a quick bathroom stop and off in the distance, Nugget saw her lurking behind a public restroom in the woods. “Look guyth, Debby followed uth. That crazy Debby.” It’s been a running joke with my lisping sidekick since this madness began. Whenever he sees a lone turkey in the wild, he’s sure it’s Debby. (PS – good thing her name isnt’ Shelia or Sally as lack of in-person speech therapy has been rough on this 8-year-old. – Damn you COVID.)
A few hours later we saw her again by a roadside antique store just outside of Provincetown. Maybe Debby was lookin’ for love. Maybe she was hopin’ to find a great deal on some colonial era candlesticks or maybe…she was following her man. Once again as we passed by comments were made and jokes flew but I looked her right in her beady eyes and I knew. A woman knows when another hen is stalkin’ her man.
The next morning, I was lounging in bed when I was jolted into reality with a series of urgent text messages.
“She here!” Pinged the first one which was immediately followed by a series of photos showing Debby the Horny Turkey pacing in front of a pair of massive doors…the doors to my husband’s office. No, not his garage office of COVID times…his real office. My husband’s actual office is about 35 miles from our house…in the middle of downtown Boston.
Sensing the potential for a whole Fatal Attraction moment, I rushed my reply. “RUN!”
My mind was flush with visions of Debby hiding a meat cleaver under her wing. Debby’s Amazonian by turkey standards. She’s a big girl that stands as tall as a kindergartener. I worried that just as my poor husband lunged towards the door to gain entry, Debby would offer up a jihad level gobble before plunging the meat cleaver into his handsome chest. I’d be a widow. My children would be fatherless. Debby would face the ultimate punishment of becoming a turkey burger. I jammed my fingers at the phone keys trying to get the Turk on the horn when he called from the safety of his office.
“Security guy rush her off.” He explained.
“Did she stab him?” I pressed. If Debby was as deranged as I feared, everyone was in danger.
“Stab him? Are you ask did the turkey pull a knife on security guy? Where the turkey get a knife?”
I’d said too much. It’s always dangerous to let my husband know what really happens inside my deranged brain. “Nevermind. I was just kidding. Watch out for her on the train though.”
When the boys woke up, I shared the latest Debby story. Number 1, the logical teen that he is offered, “It’s a random turkey Mom. You need to chill.”
But my darling baby boy however was right there with me. “I know what happened. Debby probably locked her wingth under the bottom of the train and rode all the way to work with Baba.” He lay on the floor, arms crossed over his chest to offer a full visual. “When he got off, theeee followed him. That bitch ith crazy.” (This child has the brain of his father and the crazy of his mother. He’s utterly terrifying.)
Debby laid low for a week but today, following one of our weekly beach days, troubling video appeared on the local news. My friend sent me a link from a Boston CBS affiliate that read, “Wild Turkey Spotted Roaming Streets of Downtown Boston.” (Hand to God this is true!) I nearly crapped my pants. My friend has also been following this Debby saga since spring and finds great joy in my madness. She immediately commented – “OMG IT’S DEBBY!”
I forwarded the link and the Turk confirmed. She’d been right there in front of his office again this morning…waiting. Only this time some crazy news team caught it.
I can’t wait to tune in to the evening news tonight and see what she has to say for herself. I’m assuming there will be a whole ‘on the street’ interview with the rogue bird and I hope she comes clean about her intentions. I’m expecting Debby to confess to WHDH that she’s madly in love with a Turk from the South Shore and she’s been causing mayhem and traffic upheaval in downtown Boston just to get a look at his sexy self. All I can say is dream on Debby. He’s my man and I’ve got 2 feet and 150+ pounds on your feathery ass and I have no quandary about serving you up for Thanksgiving 2021. Game on bird.