Thanksgiving Poem

Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep
I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep
The leftovers beckoned - the dark meat and white
But I fought the temptation with all of my might.

Tossing and turning with anticipation
The thought of a snack became infatuation.
So I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door
and Gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes,
Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes.
I felt myself swelling so plump and so round,
Til all of a sudden, I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky
With a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie.
But, I managed to yell as I soared past the trees...
Happy eating to all, pass the cranberries, please.

May your stuffing be tasty. May your turkey be plump.
May your potatoes ' n gravy have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious. May your pies take the prize.
May your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs.

May your Thanksgiving dinner stay off your thighs? What's that supposed to mean?

Ah hah! This poem is the socially acceptable way of celebrating Christmas before Thanksgiving! In a little over a full day it will not only be the biggest shopping day of the year, but it'll be ok to start playing Christmas music. My cousin Victor loves the day after Thanksgiving because all year he has this secret urge to play Christmas music. I'm sure he pops in his Carly SImon Christmas album every now and then when nobody's around to see.