Thanksgiving and the Bowl of Shame

Can you pile all of those items into a single bowl and just kinda make them into a wet mound of starch that I can eat with a spoon like I’m a death-row prisoner on suicide watch?
~ Patton Oswalt

Every year I cook Thanksgiving dinner. In fact, I’ve been cooking the same fucking Thanksgiving dinner since I was 20 years old. Except for the year that I decided to change it up and do a completely “gourmet” dinner, which was a complete disaster. We don’t talk about that day. Traditional Thanksgiving feasts I could pretty much knock out in my sleep these days. The problem is, after all those hours and hours of cooking, I don’t generally feel like eating. At. All.

Enter the leftovers.

I. Love. Leftovers. Friday is my day, y’all. Cold green bean casserole eaten straight out of the Tupperware as a snack? Check. Pumpkin pie for breakfast? Yes, sir. I will eat ham all day long. I have to keep going back to the fridge and taking little tastes off of it like it’s crack and I need a fix.
Today, I hit my low when I came back from the gym and made myself a meal. I purposely did not eat lunch before the gym because I knew I wouldn’t go if I stuffed my face beforehand. So I waited. Then I had to put the baby down for a nap. Then by the time I was done working out I was famished. I proceeded to line the bottom of a fairly large bowl with turkey, which I then topped with stuffing, then layered on mashed potatoes and some gravy. I heated that sucker up and topped it off with some cranberry sauce and a whole shitload of shame. I was disgusted with myself.
Until I started eating it.

Holy shit it was delicious. I almost took a picture.

Patton Oswalt, your KFC shame bowl has nothin’ on mine, but is probably just as equally tasty.

 

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