Idon'twanttomove. It took an inordinate amount of energy just to turn the computeron and it's even more painful to type. Needless to say, I had a rather large mealyesterday. Now it begins. What is this horrible, worse-than-death torture towhich I'm referring? You know what I'm talking about. Why, it's the Thanksgivingmeal leftovers.

Now, I love turkey, I really do. Combine it withstuffing, sweet potatoes, corn, cranberries, and gravy and you've got yourself aThanksgiving meal fit for a king. You devour it on Thursday, give that poorlittle bird no mercy on Friday, and you may even come back and nosh a littleSaturday, but after that, Tom Turkey isn't going to appeal to the palate anymore.

Sure, it's Friday, the day after, and as I write this I can't wait toassault the carved fowl, but I know from many years of experience that thisexcitement gets old.

Be watchful for signs of it in your own family.First will come the turkey sandwiches, then turkey stew, next turkey soup (whichis actually the aforementioned stew with a can of no-fat turkey broth added),followed by turkey casserole. Don't forget Bisquik's Easy Turkey Pot Pie. Thencomes the open-faced-turkey-mush-drowned-in-gravy emergency meal, and finally myfavorite, turkey surprise.

The surprise is that what little turkey wasleft swimming in that all-preserving gravy has either donned a life vest, beenrescued from the brown sea and long been digested, or, having given up all hopeof a dignified end, succumbed to the churning liquid and disintegrated. The endresult (and the surprise) is that you're eating nothing but watery turkeygravy.

That's just the turkey. Don't even get me started on the sweetpotatoes! I love Thanksgiving, but people just aren't learning the secret toholiday bliss - buy smaller birds.