Happy Thanksgiving Weekend!
In the spirit of gratitude and turkey-stuffed memories, today’s You Can’t Make It Up moment takes us back to my early days as an elementary principal. It’s one of those sweet memories that warms your heart—while simultaneously making you shake your head and say, “You Can’t Make It Up!”
The Thanksgiving Forecast
The long-awaited holiday weekend had arrived, with promises of turkey, mashed potatoes, and a weatherman’s cheerful prediction of clear skies on Thanksgiving Day. He did mention the possibility of “a little snow” in the days after, but that sounded manageable. Guests would be able to get home, the roads would stay clear, and life would roll along smoothly.
Or so we thought.
By Friday night, that “little snow” turned into Mother Nature’s personal snow globe audition. It fell. And fell. And kept falling. Before we knew it, we were buried under one of the biggest snowfalls in years.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t just an inconvenience for holiday shopping plans. The snowstorm threatened the “life-cycle of an egg” unit — second-grade turken eggs, to be exact. Yes, folks, there were unborn hybrid chicken-turkeys at stake! The teachers responsible for turning the eggs in their incubators were snowed in, and the life-cycle science unit was on the verge of collapse.
And that’s how I ended up saying, “Sure, I’ll go check on the eggs!”
Operation Save the Turkens
After a crash course on egg-turning (and an unspoken promise not to botch the assignment), I suited up for my daring mission. Spoiler alert: no roads had been plowed yet. Not my neighborhood. Not the main road. Not even the school parking lot.
Did that stop me? Of course not. Turkens were counting on me!
I slid, skidded, and prayed my way down a two-mile hill to the school. I felt like a cross between an Olympic bobsledder and a farmer in a snowstorm. But I made it. The eggs got turned. And then came the next hurdle: making it back up the hill without ending up in a ditch. Let’s just say my car and I both needed a long winter’s nap afterward.
The Waiting Game
Fast forward to the final day of the hatching window. The snow had melted, but the turkens hadn’t hatched. Not a single peep, chirp, or crack in the shell. The second-graders were glued to the incubator, waiting for signs of life like it was the Super Bowl of Poultry.
They went to lunch. They went to recess. Still nothing.
Then, just as I got done wiping tables in the cafeteria, the office door burst open. Two second-grade girls, wide-eyed and practically vibrating with excitement, shouted, “There are BEAKS! THREE BEAKS!”
The turkens had finally decided to make their debut. Over the next two days, the little hybrids hatched, proving that even a snow-delayed schedule couldn’t stop Mother Nature—or determined second-graders.
Key Takeaways: Lessons from the Great Turken Trot
- Adaptability is a core leadership skill. Whether it’s a snowstorm or a sudden crisis involving hybrid chicken-turkeys, flexibility keeps things moving—even when the roads don’t.
- Science lessons (and life) rarely go as planned. Eggs don’t always hatch on schedule, but persistence and a little creative problem-solving can still save the day.
- When others can’t step up, you will. Being a leader often means being the first one down the unplowed road—literally or figuratively.
- Small moments create big memories. Sometimes, it’s the unexpected, like a snow-delayed hatch, that becomes the story students and teachers will remember forever.
- Leadership is built on everyday moments. Whether it’s wiping cafeteria tables, braving icy roads, or tackling the tasks no one notices, the small, unglamorous actions are what create lasting impact.
Never seen a turken? Google it. And when you’re done, give a shout-out to every teacher and principal who’s gone above and beyond—sometimes in snow boots—for the sake of kids (and maybe their science projects).
You really can’t make it up! Happy Thanksgiving,
Jane