Tuesday, November 23, 2004
So, with Christmas right around the corner, I thought I would share why we have started a tradition of eating a Goose for a Christmas dinner. This is relatively a new tradition, but one I plan on keeping for the rest of my life.
See, when I was about the age of seven, my parents took my brothers and sister and I to Lake Arrow Head one afternoon. After lots of window-shopping with my parents we went to the lakeshore to feed the ducks. However, there were no ducks, just geese. They looked peaceful enough, so we began to toss pieces of bread to them.
It was then a frenzy broke out. The geese were flapping their wings, running in front of one another trying to get the next piece of bread that was to be thrown. Then out of nowhere, a white goose, which must have been possessed by the devil himself, started flapping its wings and running towards me. I stood frozen in freight as this bird, which appeared to be as big as a Pterodactyl was coming towards me at full speed, with its wings spread and flapping. Before I could protect myself, it had open its huge orange beak and latched on to my crotch. At that moment, I began to scream with fear, looking towards my dad for help, begging with my eyes to save me from this beast, but he just stood there laughing with my mother. In a state of panic, I began to twist from side to side to shake the bird off my crotch, but it just made the bird even madder and he started to hit me with his wings, unable to scream because of the feathers that were in my mouth now from being pounded by his two humongous wings, I began to hit the goose on its head with my fist. Finally freeing myself from the wretched animal, I ran. I ran faster at the moment than I have ever had before, racing to the top of the hill. Once on top of the hill, I looked back to see the goose honking at me, as if telling me off in own language.
At that moment I vowed to get my revenge, “ I will get you goosy, you and your family, so help me God!” Thus, having a Goose for Christmas dinner for the rest of my life.
See, when I was about the age of seven, my parents took my brothers and sister and I to Lake Arrow Head one afternoon. After lots of window-shopping with my parents we went to the lakeshore to feed the ducks. However, there were no ducks, just geese. They looked peaceful enough, so we began to toss pieces of bread to them.
It was then a frenzy broke out. The geese were flapping their wings, running in front of one another trying to get the next piece of bread that was to be thrown. Then out of nowhere, a white goose, which must have been possessed by the devil himself, started flapping its wings and running towards me. I stood frozen in freight as this bird, which appeared to be as big as a Pterodactyl was coming towards me at full speed, with its wings spread and flapping. Before I could protect myself, it had open its huge orange beak and latched on to my crotch. At that moment, I began to scream with fear, looking towards my dad for help, begging with my eyes to save me from this beast, but he just stood there laughing with my mother. In a state of panic, I began to twist from side to side to shake the bird off my crotch, but it just made the bird even madder and he started to hit me with his wings, unable to scream because of the feathers that were in my mouth now from being pounded by his two humongous wings, I began to hit the goose on its head with my fist. Finally freeing myself from the wretched animal, I ran. I ran faster at the moment than I have ever had before, racing to the top of the hill. Once on top of the hill, I looked back to see the goose honking at me, as if telling me off in own language.
At that moment I vowed to get my revenge, “ I will get you goosy, you and your family, so help me God!” Thus, having a Goose for Christmas dinner for the rest of my life.
