Last night (or actually 2:30 AM this morning) while I was in the depths of slumber, my wife yelled, "No! No! Don't let the turkey in the house!" which startled me from the depths of slumber—or momentarily startled me, then I started laughing—and while I normally don't recount dreams on this blog because dreams are stupid-- this one affected my actual physical existence, so I will attempt to sort out what happened here, psychologically, the factors which created this dire and frightening avian scenario in my wife's subconscious mind:
1) my wife is afraid of birds;
2) we recently watched an episode of The West Wing in which Press Secretary C.J. Cregg finds two turkeys in her office—named Eric and Troy—and she has to determine which one is more photogenic and therefore will receive a presidential pardon from execution and consequent basting and roasting
3) fall weather has moved in, and Thanksgiving is approaching;
4) the weirdo across the street has several chickens and a rooster, and the rooster crows several times every morning.
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