Dear Turkey Carver from 1973,
I love that my parents only bring you out once a year when it's time to carve the turkey for our Thanksgiving Eat-a-Thon. I love that you were a wedding gift that they received and they've never bothered to replace you. I love your funky funky mustard color. I love that you live in the cupboard in your original box that has yellowed over time and is just as worn as you. I love that my mom does the entire Thanksgiving meal (except for the sweet potatoes, which are my specialty), and yet, my father stops all hors d'oeuvres eating and football watching to use you just before we eat.
Thanks for being a part of our holiday tradition...Thanksgiving just wouldn't be the same without you!
the BLAH BLAH BLAHger