Vegetarians are not just evil, they are also inconsiderate idiots.

Many of you have certainly, by now, had vegetarian friends over for the Thanksgiving holiday. Usually, we omnivorous folk are very considerate for the dietary 'requirements' of our neurotic cronies and we usually prepare enough non-meat items to ensure that our vegetarian guests can have a delightful time and partake in a unique holiday tradition which, in America, spans the generations, heritages and cultures of the fine people who make up our great nation.

Our first Thanksgiving with Vegetarian guests went something like this:

We are Americans and live abroad, therefore, we get together with other American expatriates once each year to share this uniquely American tradition. It was 'our turn' and Thanksgiving is usually a huge chore without the extra work of vegetarian guests - who generally expect that their eccentric dietary decision will be catered to in what seems to be a sort of bizarre acknowledgement of demonstrating their moral superiority. Nobody bothered to tell them that if there were, in fact any real vegans or vegetarians on the Mayflower some 400 years ago, they would have most certainly been the first to perish...

However, we are not combative vegetarians, so we prepared a mountain of vegetarian cuisine in addition to the usual Turkey-day fare, plenty of which would pass muster with the strictest vegans and fruitarians. In addition to turkey and the trimmings we had manicotti, eggplant parmigiana, pasta pesto, pasta e fagioli and a cornucopia of meatless delights to satisfy the most discriminating vegetarian (with a distinctly Italian-ethnic cant). While we were preparing this repast, we wondered if vegetarians prepare meat dishes for their omnivorous/carnivorous guests. Do they prepare them to look like vegetables? We were to find out the next year... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Our vegetarian friends were the last to arrive, with their troupe of malnourished hyperactive kids. We had a home full of children, but the vegetarian kids are especially hyperactive (and undersized) and one of them somehow immediately ripped an expensive lamp off the wall popping a circuit breaker in the process and were jumping on our new furniture. They were on windowsills and jumping about the house as if it were an acrobatics studio. They were totally out of control, and the parents didn't even really seem to notice until they saw our reaction. The other children - who were all about the same age - were very well behaved.

The meal was a huge success, with all of us enjoying the turkey and trimmings and polishing off a few bottles of wine in the process. Our vegetarian friends were duly impressed with the breadth of non-meat items to sample. The vegetarian children hardly ate a thing, but seemed to be anxiously waiting for the desserts to begin. From what we saw that night, the only thing those poor children ate were desserts.

The desserts were delicious, and the vegetarians children, who ate nearly nothing until the dessert course, really went to town., The fresh injection of sugar set the otherwise starved vegetarian children off again, this time spilling drinks on our new floors and breaking a glass and two dishes. More jumping on the couches followed - they were relentless and unstoppable. At this point, the vegetarian mom decided to take the youngest baby home - just a few blocks away to put her to bed, and her now sugar-charged, hyperactive brood of rampaging stunted vegetarian runts went with her. Whew! We made it!

The following year, it was our vegetarian friends' turn at Thanksgiving. We were all in for a surprise.

Thanksgiving at the Vegetarian family's home...

Our first hint that something was amiss was when we first walked through the door of our vegetarian hosts' home. You usually associate Thanksgiving with the smells of a cooking turkey. We had suspected as much, but were still kind of surprised, that the same folks who were anxious recipients of our hospitality and hard work, would not show us at least an attempt at reciprocity by cooking a turkey for the hungry guests who now began arriving.

Surprise! There wasn't going to be a turkey this thanksgiving. They had very graciously enlisted us in their quixotic urge to rescue a turkey from this abhorrent holiday and began to proseletize their foolish religion to any who would listen. My teenage son was really famished, so I whispered to my wife that I would take him to a restaurant for some real food. I do not feed tofu or soy products to neither myself nor my family, so we thought we could make a polite getaway to a restaurant to enjoy a real meal.

My wife whispered back that it would be very rude, and so not looking to be equally militant with my dietary choices, I decided to sit and see what was prepared for us. My son's stomach was growling - probably more in dread than anticipation.

The lady of the house told us that she did, in fact have a turkey for us, and that it was a great surprise. She had worked extra hard to put a turkey before us on this holiday despite all of her strong convictions that people who murder animals and eat food that has a face are evil.

So we had our appetizers, sprouts, carrots, vegan hommus dip, baba ghannouj, falafel and they even tried to convince me of the health benefits of tofu - but we know better, don't we.

Finally, the moment had arrived... the turkey was ready. I was almost fooled, despite the lack of the aroma of a basting turkey and gravy permeating the home. I really thought that they were as considerate as we were!

That is, until I laid eyes on the turkey. I don't know what was more sad... well, you tell me...

...the sad excuse for a turkey, or the look on my starving teenage son's face.

Sad vegetarian turkey

Well, this was much more than I or my son could take. So we abruptly got up and retrieved our coats. Some indignant chatter followed, which I could barely concentrate on due to my hunger, my own indignation and the racket caused by the vegetarian family's three malnourished, hyperactive children screeching and jumping on their rickety, banged-up furniture.

Fortunately, we live in a European capital city, and there is no shortage of eager restauraeurs who will gladly serve us hot turkey on a Thursday evening - even at the last possible moment.

I haven't spoken to my vegetarian friends since then. I just don't need the aggravation.