A Childhood Thanksgiving 3 min read

When I was 6 years old, I remember fondly Thanksgiving at my Aunt Sarah’s. I loved my Aunt Sarah and I used to eat with her on Thanksgiving while my parents were working (they both worked at the hospital). I remember after dinner when all the men were watching football, the ladies sat around the table and chatted.

Although I was attracted to the female foot, obviously I didn’t know why. In any event, I found myself with a small paper plate of thinly sliced turkey, playing beneath the table. The table sat eight ladies and was covered by a large tablecloth. I started eating and playing with my hot wheels amongst the high-heeled feet.

My Aunt Sarah had a friend named Betsy. Betsy was 38 at the time, and she was wearing a sweater, a long skirt, and black pumps. As I was playing, Betsy suddenly adjusted her position, and the heel of her right shoe landed squarely on the top of my hand, to make matters worse she crossed her leg, draping her left leg over her right and thus doubling the weight. I was scared and in a great deal of pain, watching the thin heel biting into my flesh and hearing Betsy laugh and talk above. Her left foot was dangling inches from my face and I could smell the leather. I tried to move my hand out without Betsy noticing, but I was pinned.

After a while I was near tears and tapped Betsy’s foot in the hopes that she would look down to find me and move it, however when I tapped Betsy’s foot, she did look down to see me, but because of how I was sitting, I blocked her view of my trapped hand. She saw me and smiled, “be careful down there I don’t want to step on you.” Then just like that, she sat back up, with my hand still trapped beneath the heel. Suddenly, she lifted the toe of her right foot so that all her weight was resting on the heel, then she began to tap her foot. I was stuck for about five minutes.

Shortly after this time my Aunt Sarah, wearing white low heel pump (2 inches). Slid her foot forward; I could see the sole of her shoe, and it had some dirt and grime stuck to it. Before I could react, my Aunt Sarah’s shoe landed and rested on my small plate of turkey. Fortunately, she didn’t realize it, but as she moved her foot back, I could see the grime that was on her shoe was suddenly wiped onto my turkey.

I stared at it for a moment then my Aunt adjusted her position the toe of her shoe brushed against my cheek. She noticed this and looked under the table. “Matthew, what are you doing down there?” She looked at me disapprovingly. Noticing my turkey she said, ” you better eat that turkey.” When I said, “no”, she gently pulled me out from under the table, and with perfectly manicured and polished fingernails, she grabbed the grime-covered turkey and stuffed it into my mouth. I was disgusted and aroused. “Eat it all up like a good boy,” she laughed and as I chewed I could feel the crunch one feels when they get dirt in their mouth. Ah, the holidays.