Flashback Friday: Old Tom Turkey & Rusty the Snowman

When I was searching for my go-to Thanksgiving recipe, Emeril’s cranberry sauce, I found this post in my archives from when my oldest son was the same age as my youngest is now. Enjoy! And don’t get trampled at the Black Friday sales. Me? I’m waiting for Cyber Monday.

Old Tom Turkey & Rusty the Snowman

We had snow flurries the other day here in Baltimore. I had no idea snow was even predicted, since I’m not allowed to watch the weather report anymore. My son thinks the TV is exclusively his, and if it is not tuned to PBS Kids or Sprout, he simply turns it off — regardless of who else may be watching it at the time. So I was surprised to glance out the window and see what looked like a life-sized snow globe.

I pointed out the snow to Miles and he said, “Oh! Is it Christmas?” This struck me as both funny and brilliant. It’s not like we’ve been talking up the holidays in our house. We don’t go on and on about Santa and reindeer and sleighs. And yet somehow, this 2 ½ year old has already learned to associate snow with Christmas. Of course, we have been doing nightly readings of “The Grinch,” so maybe that’s where he got it.

Miles is a little confused about some of the other holidays, though. He still hasn’t grasped the fact that his birthday comes just once a year. And trick-or-treating made a big impact on him this year, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that every once in a while out of the blue he’ll say, “Is it Halloween time, Mommy?” Besides, he’s got a point: pumpkins and scarecrows are still everywhere.

Of course, lately we’ve been talking about Thanksgiving. We’re headed up to visit both families in New England for the holiday. So nearly every morning Miles will ask, “Is it Thanksgiving at Mamie and Pop’s house?” At school, he’s been making finger-painted turkeys and Indian headdresses. Today they had a Thanksgiving “feast,” to which I was asked to contribute cut-up grapes. Somehow, I doubt the Pilgrims and Native Americans worried about choking hazards; small pox was probably more of a concern, don’t you think?

Miles often comes home from school singing bits and pieces of various songs he’s learned. The Thanksgiving one is about Old Tom Turkey, but the lyrics are a little unclear. From what I gather, Tom has a run-in with a duck and they both end up saying, “Gobble, gobble.”

I was thrown for a loop the other day when, following yet another reading of “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” Miles asked me to read Rusty.

“Rusty?” I asked, racking my brain to think of what book he might be referring to.

“The snowman!” he clarified. Ohhhh, that would be “Rusty” the Snowman. Of course.

So we’re off to start the holidays, with visions of turkeys and pumpkins and snowmen dancing in our heads. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!