Kitchen Disaster #1

When I was first married, we used to take turns cooking Thanksgiving between my house on Maui, my mother-in-law's in Honolulu, or my sister-in-law's in Kauai.  The first time they came to my house, they arrived from the airport at about 11am and wanted to eat immediately. (Both of them were extremely thin with voracious appetites and ridiculous metabolisms.) I had intended the turkey to be ready closer to 2pm.  So we commenced to eat crudites and drink copius amounts of rum & coke (me), beer (hubby) and whiskey (mother-in-law) and get properly sloshed.  Meanwhile, I kept checking the turkey in the gas oven and it wasn't cooking as fast as I thought it should.  Finally, about 4pm, and basically drunk as skunks, it was determined that the oven had failed and I had been trying to cook the turkey for about 8 hours on pilot light!  Fortunately, we had a microwave oven that had been a wedding gift, and my husband being quite talented with a carving knife, cut the turkey up and we cooked it in the microwave.  Or at least I think we did, what I remember, that is.