When Good Turkeys Go Bad

Now that we are back at home with no enthusiastic grandparents to play with the Munchkin while I sit on my ass sipping iced tea, I find myself a little out-of-practice in the entertainment department. I sort of, uh, don't quite know what to do with her.

So when I stumbled across an advertisement for a Petting Zoo at a local farm, I figured it'd be a great way to get out and do something different. I can only handle so much Noggin.

When we arrived, I put the Munchkin in her stroller. But as we got closer to the animals, she started to kick and strain against the straps.

"Out! Out! Out!" she cried. I figured the worst case scenario would be that she'd get pecked by a chicken, and she'd probably deserve it. So I let her out.

As we crossed a grassy area in front of all the animal pens, I noticed two loose "turkeys" standing off to the side, strutting and pecking at the ground. I use quotation marks because in terms of size, they seriously looked more like baby elephants.

The Munchkin toddled a few yards ahead of me as she headed for a gigantic wooden play structure. I took a few running steps to catch up with her, at which point I noticed both elephants turkeys creeping toward me with their necks bent low to the ground, their eyes fixed on my stroller.

"Uh, oh..." I said, to no one.

And I swear, these turkeys were growling. I imagine they had a conversation that went something like this:

Turkey #1: Dude, what the hell is that?
Turkey #2: Clearly, it is the Chariot of Satan.
Turkey #1: Ah. We should assume battle stations, in that case.
Turkey #2 (bending down to scoop up a beakful of dirt, a la Gladiator): ATTAAAAACK!!

Suddenly, both turkeys came running at me full-tilt with their wings splayed out, feet pounding the ground and, I think, bayonets strapped to their beaks.

I did what any self-respecting woman would do. I screamed, ran like Forrest Gump and left my stroller for dead in the middle of the field.

I caught up to the Munchkin, scooped her up (they might take prisoners, who knows?) and ran as fast as I could (which isn't saying much) toward a woman with a yellow STAFF shirt.

"Uh, yeah hi, I just abandoned my stroller in the grass back there because I think your turkeys are going to eat it," I panted.

"Oh, dear," she said. She looked back at the turkeys, now circling the stroller. I swear I saw fear in her eyes. "Well, they won't eat it. They, uh....yeah, they should be good."

They are not good, I thought. They are evil. Obviously you need to take them behind the barn and shoot them between the eyes.

"They might sit in it, though," she added.

Great. That'll be a great photo for the scrapbook.

I joke about it now, but seriously, I'd just unstrapped the Munchkin from the stroller about 30 seconds earlier. What if she had been in it when the turkeys attacked? What would I have done?

Actually, I know exactly what I would have done. I would have whipped the Munchkin out and, wielding my stroller like a bow staff (ha...), I would have beaten the turkeys with such fervor that they would have wished they'd died last Thanksgiving.

Because no one messes with my kid.