The Thanksgiving
Denture Adventure
The day was a nightmare; I'll try to explainthe nieces and nephews and grandchildren came,
and grandpa and grandma had just spent the week,
this holiday dinner was more than unique.
The turkey was nestled all snug in the stove
as the moochers arrived at my door by the drove,
already regretting inviting this breed,
as their jackets came off and the children were freed.
They stood there and glared like a posse possessed,
just plotting and scheming some torture, I guessed,
then lo and behold, like a bat out of hell,
they turned on us grown-ups like some evil spell.
While setting the table I let out a shriek,
when a tiny white mouse from my gravy boat peeked!
Then pickles went flying and pies hit the floor;
I found a dead worm in the silverware drawer.
As soda was spilling and olives were tossed,
I thought about having my own holocaust,
poor grandpa and grandma were fit to be tied,
and hubby kept mumbling the word 'homicide'!
The dog ran and hid after grabbing his bone,
and I fled to the kitchen to be left alone,
the house was in chaos--beyond my belief,
when grandma cried, "Help me--I can't find my teeth!!"
I said they were soaking right next to her bed,
then gramps said, "Forget it...the woman's brain-dead!"
This started her bawling as bad went to worse,
I reached for the aspirin while chanting a curse.
While searching the house grandma sputtered and choked,
and I wondered which brat took her teeth as a joke,
but my thought was short-lived as a crisis arose,
someone's kid had a carrot stick lodged up their nose!
The turkey was done, so we sat down to eat
with poor grandma still sporting a look of defeat,
this Thanksgiving madness had altered her mood
for she hadn't her dentures to savor the food.
I dished out the dressing and to my surprise
a pair of false-teeth lay in front of my eyes!
I'd have left out the spices if only I'd known...
that the stuffing I cooked had a 'bite' of it's own!
The day had arrived; 'twas exactly one year
since my relatives, (moochers), had Thanksgiving here,
poor Grandpa was already stewed to the gills,
and Grandma--disgusted, was popping pink pills.
The turkey was turning a rich, golden hue
while children were screeching, "There's nothing to do!"
And memories from last year still had me spell-bound
when inside my stuffing Gran's dentures were found!
Soon mean Uncle Henry called--fit to be tied,
offended that no one would give him a ride
to this festive occasion--he's such an old crab,
so he cursed one and all, then he phoned for a cab.
His arrival came soon, not that anyone cared,
the adults began groaning, the children were scared,
then I noticed a change as I hugged him with dread--
he was sporting a rug on the top of his head!
A pie made of pumpkin shot into my view
being used to play catch; out the window it flew,
and I thought for a minute just who was to blame
as my prized candied yams disappeared down the drain.
My husband, the whiner, quick pulled me aside
and bribed me with cash for a place he could hide,
with my baster now loaded and aimed at his butt,
he crawled back to the couch, made a face, then shut-up.
A frog and a hamster decided to play
on the counter by Auntie, preparing souflee
with the aide of old Henry; they both stopped to stare,
then she screamed and he raced from the kitchen--sans hair!
When asked he replied, "Gee, I had it before--
but perhaps in my haste it fell off on the floor."
So we all made a search, but the hunt was in vain,
now poor Henry had nothing to blanket his brain.
Recalling what Auntie had started to make,
I put the large crock in the oven to bake,
then called for the vultures in voice sugar-sweet,
"Let's move it, you morons--we're ready to eat!!"
The turkey was carved when the timer rang out,
Auntie's dish didn't raise so I started to doubt
that ingredients used in her famous souflee
would've called for an ugly, synthetic toupee.
And lo and behold, as I dug through the dish
all smothered in egg whites--a hairy, Oh Ish!!
These Thanksgiving dinners, My God! I declare...
if it ain't someone's dentures, it's somebody's hair!
~ Copyright © Terry Lerdall-Fitterer ~
