Twas the night before thanksgiving, Mom is tied to a cart,
Battling with others who didn't shop smart.
Dad thinks he is helpful (though I want to choke ya),
Gonzo's loafing in Starbucks with his vente Mocha.
My brain, it was clouded with requests and dislikes
Of those headed toward me on various turnpikes.
At times I would waver and think I might quit it
(This meal looked so easy when my grandma did it).
All at once I saw purses and coupons a-flyin'
And I ran to the aisle to see what chicks were buyin'!
What's the excitement? I don't mean to be crass,
But these couponing wenches are tight with the cash.
When what to my bloodshot, tired eyes should appear?
But a turkey - on sale - twice the size of my rear.
"We don't need that turkey," said Dad, "it's absurd!"
I just blocked out that nonsense - I'm fixing that bird.
The underpaid butcher stood there at his post
And I noticed most turkeys looked tired and sclerosed.
With one hand on top and one hand on the bottom,
I grabbed that big turkey and yelled, "Hon - I got 'em!"
We can't roam,
Let's go home,
This bird must defrost.
...I best not be crossed.
I'll whip up the stuffing that you all call "dressing,"
You'll wear a nice shirt, and you WILL say a blessing.
My sons and my man will proclaim, "What a mess!"
Who's cleaning up after?
I'll give them one guess.