Wayne Post
  • Anne Palumbo: What one leftover said to the other

  • If leftovers could talk, here’s a conversation between cranberry sauce and stuffing, on the day after Thanksgiving.

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  • If leftovers could talk, here’s a conversation between cranberry sauce and stuffing, on the day after Thanksgiving.
    Cranberry: Hey there, hot Stuff, what’s the word?
    Stuffing: The word? Ouch! If I get probed one more time, I’m going to initiate mold production.
    Cranberry: I…I don’t understand.
    Stuffing: Nobody uses utensils in this family. They just dig in with their grimy fingers and have their way with me, like I’m some second-class leftover that’s been languishing since September. It’s humiliating.
    Cranberry: At least they’re interested. Nobody seems to care what I have to offer.
    Stuffing: But, you’re beautiful! All bright and shiny. If I weren’t so consumed with my own plight, I’d be all over you.
    Cranberry: That’s what they all say. But, the truth is, I’m just a one-day stand. No better than eye-candy. I pretty up the plate, add a little zip, and then it’s over. I feel so used.
    Stuffing: Ah, Cran, give it a chance. Soon, they’ll be making turkey sandwiches. Won’t they want you then?
    Cranberry: You would think! But, no, they never remember. I just get pushed further and further back. Let me tell you, it’s no picnic being back here with month-old tuna salad. Talk about a foul attitude.
    Stuffing: Shhh! Somebody just opened the fridge. Brace yourself, Cran, it could get rough.
    Cranberry: Nah, it looks like he’s going for the potatoes.
    Stuffing: OMG, he’s using his whole hand to scoop the potatoes – like a crane!
    And he keeps looking over his shoulder. What’s that about?
    Cranberry: He doesn’t want to get caught by the missus. He knows how fried she gets whenever he uses his fingers.
    Stuffing: Holy contamination, look what he’s doing now. He’s ripped off a piece of turkey with his mouth and is now dipping it in the gravy. What a beast!
    Cranberry: You’re telling me. Oh, look out, Stuff, he’s coming your way. And, his forehead is sweating. I think he’s worried about the houseguests.
    Stuffing: Houseguests?
    Cranberry: Rumor has it they ravage the leftovers when everyone is sleeping. Apparently, his wife’s cousins all look like linebackers, even the women.
    Several have won pie-eating contests. Newborns tip the scale at 15 pounds. Get the picture?
    Stuffing: Everything makes sense now…the shoveling with the fingers, the cross-contamination between leftovers, the over-the-shoulder glances. Poor guy. His digestion must be a mess. No wonder he burps like a water buffalo.
    Cranberry: Well, it looks like your days are numbered, Stuff. Congrats, again. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got some creamed rutabaga to keep me company.
    Page 2 of 2 - Stuffing: What the heck’s that?
    Cranberry: Beats me, but it already smells worse than the tuna. Between you and me, the inside of a disposal never looked so good!

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