I would have made it out the door undetected were it not for the squeaky hinge. I should have waited another half hour for everyone to fall into a turkey-induced coma before trying to escape but my impatience got the better of me. The traitorous hinge blared a warning to the guards like in an old black and white jailbreak movie.
“Nicholas Bartholomew Grosspepper, get away from that door this instant!” My mother’s patience had been steadily shrinking all day. Now in the midst of post-Thanksgiving clean up, she was completely strung out. I could here her stomping her way toward me. Any second now and all three hundred pounds of her would turn the corner and catch me red handed. I desperately searched for a place to hide my bundle of stolen goods. In a flash of inspiration I grabbed my coat.
“Where do you think you are going?” She glared at me with her bloodshot eyes. “Well, don’t just stand there looking dumb, answer me.”