Goodbye, Pumpkin Pie! Year after year after year I go crazy! Every Thanksgiving I sit with the babies! It’s the little kids’ table; The table for tots, Where my mom makes me sit If I like it or not. The table for grown-ups Is fit for a king, With goblets And giblets And gold napkin rings, And bread rolls and salad And dressing with drippings, One glass just for drinking, And one just for sipping! But here all the kids Drink from Styrofoam cups, We eat small turkey bits That our moms have cut up. Our plates are red plastic And so are the spoons, And we eat by ourselves In a small dining room. I have dozens of cousins Age one and age two Whose Thanksgiving feast Is a greenish-brown goo. They slop up their faces With vegetable mashes And after they drink They all have Milk mustaches. They urp, And they burp, And they belch And they gulp; Oh, why can’t I sit At the feast for adults? All the mooshing And mashing And smooshing And gnashing! I put down my fork And I thought about fasting! I’d never eat turkey Again in my life! Never pick up a fork! Never pick up a knife! I’d fast like a mountain-top Indian swami; I wouldn’t touch mustard Or bread Or salami! “I’ll never eat mushrooms “Or green beans “Or squid! “And I NEVER will eat “At the table for kids!” “What’s wrong?” asked my mom, She was pouring some drinks; “You haven’t touched dinner… “Not one single thing!” She straightened the napkin Tucked under my chin, She gave me a hug As she pushed my chair in, She cut up my turkey bits Two sizes smaller, She held up my glass, “Have a sip of some water!” She dished up a spoon Of potatoes and gravy; My mom tried to feed me Like I was a baby! Well, my face turned as red As the rhubarb pie filling! I quick turned away, And my cup went a-spilling! BOOSH! Water splashed on Mom’s face and her hair, And it looked like some gravy Was mixed up in there, Because polka dots spotted My mom’s bright white dress! Her Thanksgiving suit Was a gravy-brown mess! I should’ve said “Sorry!” I should’ve said “Oops!” I should’ve helped mom Wipe the gravy-brown goop. What happened instead Is a mystery, my friends. But there’s one thing for sure- – – I won’t do it again! I opened my mouth- – – Do you know what I did? I sassed my mom back Like a spoiled snotty kid. “I can use my own fork! “I can use my own knife! “And I don’t want to sit “At the table for tikes!” “I can’t stand all the gunk! “I can’t stand all the gak! “I won’t watch little Timothy “Eating like that!” “He’s got yams in his hair, “He’s got yams North and South, “And there’s food everywhere “But inside of his mouth!” “Then there’s Sarah […]
