wild turkey chase

Sometimes, Graham stumps me when he asks a question. I usually try to give him a reply, but sometimes I can't think of anything clever or nice to say, so I say nothing at all. When this happens he tends to repeat the question over and over until he gets some sort of response. Lately, rather than repeat the entire question, he has resorted to just saying the last word of his question.

For instance, we took the train into old Napoli over the weekend to check out Christmas Alley.

We have learned our lesson about trying to drive in the heart of Naples, so we found a train stop somewhat close to our house.


Exiting the train, we were thrown into the chaos that defines this city. Graham tried walking himself, but after nearly getting nicked by 3 mopeds cruising the sidewalks, I decided to carry him. Tony and I were focused on the street signs, or lack thereof, when Graham started asking me something about a turkey. "A turkey, mom?" "A turkey?" "Turkey?" "Tuurr---kkeeeyy??" I had nothing clever or nice to say, and it is difficult for me to talk and breathe at the same time while carrying Graham-he's heavy!- so I chose to say nothing at all.

We turned around to find a live rooster roaming the streets with two guys chasing after him. I dropped Graham and grabbed the camera, but they caught the turkey before I could get a photo to prove to you that, indeed, there was a rooster in the city. Notice the rooster in the man's hands, and the smiles on their faces. Who knows how long they'd been chasing that thing.

Graham still keeps asking about a turkey, and I still have no real explanation, except to say, "It was a rooster, bud. Not a turkey."