It’s a Thanksgiving Day Story(To the tune of “Twas the Night Before Christmas”)
On Thanksgiving morning, when all through the house, every creature was stirring, or whirring, or thumping and dashing.
The turkey was roasting, all snug in the pan, a bag of his juices snuggle up to his...his...what's that thingie, Mom?
Oh, yeah, wattle. Except dad cut if off.
That's okay, honey. Let's hear some more of your story.
'Kay. Let's see.
Um, like anything's gonna rhyme with wattle.
The cranberries were bubbling in orange sauce, all tingly and smashing,
And Gram's got her arms bared, rolling crusts with her old soda bottle!
and pecan. Shoefly is Gramp's favorite, but he won't get any this year cuz he broke the seat.
Hey, that's pretty silly.
It rhymes, Mommy.
It sure does.
The stuffing is stinky, like Aunt Jan's creamed beans,
But jello and cherries my favorite aunt Caro brings
I sneak the sweet potatoes to my dog mister clean,
And steal Jakie’s butter roll when he pretends to sing
We all say we’re thankful for what we got
Then we gnaw on the turkey and drink cider a lot
Cleaning and football and eating more pie
Wearing aprons and pilgrim hats and laughing till we ’bout die
She gives it when we go home
Oh how I love being Thankful this day
That’s very nice, honey. Why don’t you color a turkey on it and we’ll send it to Grams?
Okay, Mommy. I love you.