Turkey Day Hero

No, it can’t be possible!

The 25th of November,

one day before Thanksgiving?

How did I not remember?

Why didn’t you, Captain Thanksgiving,

bother to send me a quick reminder,

instead of leaving me in the dark?

That would’ve been so much kinder!

I should’ve done it earlier,

of this there is no doubt.

Yet I can put it off no longer,

I simply must go out.

I sigh and don my coat

for it’s chilly out, you see,

it’s late November, after all,

and frost is on the trees.

The stores will be crowded,

but my cupboards, they are bare.

And it won’t be very long,

til the family all gets here,

I drive to the store

to do all the shopping.

And yes, I was right,

the place is quite hopping.

Scores of people rudely competing

for last-minute Turkey Day fixings.

I wish I hadn’t put it off so long,

but what is the use of wishing?

Grabbing the last of the turkeys

from the arms of someone with two,

glaring when she spits at me

and lands a kick with a pointy shoe.

I fight my way to the checkout

and gape in horror at the bill

I might just have a heart attack;

the ads had promised such a steal!

With eight full bags of calories

I limp my way from the store

and hobble slowly into my house

ruing the fact I didn’t settle the score.

Managing to reach my kitchen,

I drop the groceries where they land,

then drop myself into a chair...

too pooped and sore to stand.

I grab a bowl and my old mixing spoon

and throw together the stuff for the stuffing

but where had I hidden the roaster?

Trying to think, I went hunting.

It takes a bit, but at last I find it,

so I can plop the bird in the pan.

Packing its backside to gross overflowing

is quick as a wink in a one-minute span.

I turn on an oven that predates Grandmother,

only to hear a hiss, splutter, and sigh.

With one last hiss, and a plume of smoke,

it gives up the ghost and dies.

I shake my head in frustration

at the discouraging plight.

Can there be a way out of this mess?

Captain Thanksgiving, please help me try!

Then, voila, hold your feathers!

A wild thought leads to a scheme.

There’s one half-working burner.

Stop fretting, you goose; let the bird steam!

Well, shit and shinola and crap on a stick

the burner stops working, too.

I haul the food to the refrigerator

to discover it’s not even cool.

The refrigerator is cooked

the oven has baked its last bake,

so how do I make Thanksgiving dinner?

That’s it! I’ve had all I can take!

I drop my face to my hands

and whine, whatever the fuck?

Captain Thanksgiving, I need you

to fix this streak of bad luck!

Then lo and behold, out of the blue

an envelope whacks me atop the head.

“Yo! Use this certificate at Denny’s,”

is what the note tucked inside read.

“Turkey, dressing and pumpkin pie;

a feast just waiting to be gobbled.

Then, toss the raw bird and the hunks of junk

to save a repeat of the trouble!”

The twelve of us dine and belch

then dine again some more.

A freebie’s a freebie, after all

We’ll eat til they shove us out the door.

When we get home, we’ll take some antacid

and sleep until noon tomorrow,

before heeding advice to trash what needs trashed.

and somehow send thanks to our hero!

Another thwack to the head comes from above,

a second note, this one attached to a brick.

“Hope you enjoyed your feast,” says the Captain,

“by the way, the hole in your roof needs fixed.”

There's plenty of time to join this super fun challenge!