David C. Hughes, Writer

“Whatever you do, do from the heart, as for the Lord and not for others” –Colossians 3:23 NABRE

Thanksgiving Forgetters (2014-11-24 Daily)

As I sat at the kitchen bar the other morning drinking my coffee and doing my quiet time, Mary started giggling. I turned around and saw she was catching up with the latest Facebook postings on her timeline.

“What is it?” I asked, setting the book of Psalms aside to check out the object of her hilarity.

“Look,” she said, grinning. She pointed to a cartoon by Randy Bish, editorial cartoonist for the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. The drawing showed an angry turkey scolding a dumbfounded Santa Claus. “December, Fat Boy!” the turkey yelled. “This month is for my holiday! Now hop in that sleigh and wait your turn!”

I chuckled. This cartoon perfectly reflects Mary’s sentiment about this time of year, but recently her defense of the Thanksgiving holiday seems to have taken on a whole new desperation. Maybe it’s because Costco already had Christmas trees set up and fully illuminated in August, twinkling lights and fake snow reminding patrons to shop now because Christmas was only four months away. Or maybe it’s because I convinced Hannah’s piano instructor to start teaching her a few Christmas carols back in September so she’d be ready to play them on December 25th. Or maybe it’s because our neighbors dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus for our annual Halloween gathering. Their kids were dressed up as yetis. Whatever the reason, we may all soon hear Mary narrating some off-channel infomercial showing footage from a clandestinely-shot home video about a deranged guy in a Santa Claus suit bringing a hatchet down on the neck of a wide-eyed turkey.

Seriously, though, I believe her passionate defensiveness is most likely due to the number of houses this year already lit up in full Christmas regalia. Nothing, it seems, is sacred anymore, not even the self-discipline to wait until the day after Thanksgiving to throw the switch on the sparkling yard displays and illuminated roof lines. As I drove Hannah home from gymnastics a few nights ago we counted nine houses decked out in Christmas lights. Through the windows of one house a tree blinked cheerfully. I used all of these examples to teach Hannah the meaning of the word “anachronism” as we cast the evil eye and yelled “Thanksgiving Forgetter!” at all of these pre-mature Christmas displays.

Yes, “Thanksgiving Forgetter” is a new phrase we’ve added to our seasonal vernacular. Mary coined it and uses it zealously with various hand motions every chance she gets, which, this year, seems to be quite often. So, in an attempt to assuage Mary’s angst in this season wrought with holiday identity disorder, I’ve taken it upon myself to remedy the lack of Thanksgiving carols and fill this tragic void with a couple of tunes of my own. Wrote a song ‘bout it like to hear it here it goes . . .

 

TURKEY LEGS

(to the tune of Jingle Bells)

 

Dashing from the couch

When my mama calls my name,

Running to the table

‘Cuz the Cowboys lost again.

Drool spills down my chin

As I take in this great feast,

But when I spy the turkey legs

My hunger is released.

 

Oh, turkey legs, turkey legs,

You cannot hold me back

As I let loose and dive right in,

With my knife I start to hack.

Turkey legs, turkey legs,

Get thee in my hands

Before drunk Uncle Harrison

Hits me with the hams.

 

Now I wallow on the couch

With my tummy sticking out,

I rub my brand new baby bump

And burp with renewed clout.

My daddy washes dishes

My mama dries the glass

Now the turkey’s L-tryptophan

Has knocked me on my a**.

 

Oh, turkey legs, turkey legs,

You cannot hold me back

As I let loose and dive right in,

With my knife I start to hack.

Turkey legs, turkey legs,

Get thee in my hands

Before drunk Uncle Harrison

Hits me with the hams.

 

 

SMORGASBORD

(to the tune of Silver Bells)

 

Nacho cheese dip, braised beef short ribs

Topped with barbecue sauce,

Through the house

Drifts the odor

Of feasting.

Grandma laughing,

Grandpa passing

Some beer-induced cheer,

And on every flat surface you’ll see . . .

 

Smorgasbord, smorgasbord,

It’s turkey time in our household.

Candied yams, honey hams,

Soon we will be comatose.

 

Mama’s dressing, scrumptious dressing

Overflows from the bowl,

Auntie’s pumpkin roll

Clogs your aorta.

Grandpa’s deviled eggs,

Grandma’s turkey legs—

We thank God for all this

And above all the slurping you’ll see . . .

 

Smorgasbord, smorgasbord,

It’s turkey time in our household.

Candied yams, honey hams,

Soon we will be comatose.

 

In this season of thanksgiving, please take the time to savor all that God’s given you with a spirit of deep appreciation and gratitude. Remember, Thanksgiving always precedes the Miracle. That’s why we celebrate it! Be blessed!

 

Copyright © 2014 David C Hughes

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