Had to be a Butterball
I never knew why our Thanksgiving turkey had to be a Butterball. I never knew what the difference was between a Butterball turkey and a regular turkey. I just remember all of our Tom Turkeys had that same first name and they all came from the same neighborhood store. My mother would call a good two weeks out and put her order in. She never used a coupon. That little store never offered such things. My parents knew the owner. Most everyone did in our small town. When it was time to go pick the Butterball up and bring him home to roost, my father always wore a tie with a good shirt, dress pants and his winter coat and wool hat with a red feather on the side. My mother always went with him wrapped up in her red, woolen coat. My siblings and I would stay home and wait for them to return. It was quite an exciting time. Once back home, my mother would open the front door for my father who'd walk in carrying Tom inside a heavy cardboard b...