The tepid turkey - part 3

Over the next 3 weeks, the turkey and I became best buddies, while Jiminy had gone silent.

We had fallen into a pleasant pattern where I would be a non-smoker in public, and have an illicit affair with tobacco in private. I was caught once by my daughter once while rescuing the tobacco from the box in her bedroom, but I argued my point very cleverly, and was forgiven.

Turkey and I were on top of the moon. Not only were we non-smoker, but we could have one every now and then. How clever were we!

When the box of hidden tobacco rendered its last cigarette, we had a little flutter in the heart due to panic. But hey, that was the plan. Finish what was there and sin no more.

All went according to plan until the next day, where believe it or not, a small incident that gave us stress prompted a trip to the local tobacconist. My disguise (beanie and large sunglasses) did not work too well. “Back so soon!” said the discerning shopkeeper.

I went home, opened the packet, and as I pulled the first heavenly drag, I knew I was an utter failure, with no mitigating circumstances whatsoever. Jiminy was wholeheartedly agreeing with me, and was doing his “I told you so” routine.

That night, I went to bed knowing that I would finish the packet of fags eventually, but determined not to buy another one.

The next day, Jiminy announced he just had enough of me for the time being and was going on vacation to New Zealand. “I’m coming too Jiminy.” said I to his dismay. “And we’ll not invite the turkey. We’ll elope together and have the most magnificient time on those ski slopes”. His smile could have lit a small apartment so warm was it. So off we went.

To be continued…

Next to come “The turkey flies to NZ, hears me yell as I break something in my knee, and lands on my shoulder. The valiant and successful resistance to her nagging.”