Twas the night before Christmas, not a creature was looking,
Except mama. Who is NEVER DONE COOKING.
The apron was on, tied up with care
In hopes that she could keep the pie filling out of her hair.
The casseroles made, while dad tucked kids into bed
As visions of new toys danced in their heads
And ma in her slippers, cause she’s so done with heels
Listens to Adele Pandora and gets all the feels.
When from the fire alarm there arose such a clatter
She sprang from her daydream to see what was the matter
Away to the oven she flew like a flash
Wiped off the glass and said something crass.
Well that’s one way to heat up the house.
The sweet potatoes on the door of the brand new oven
Were spilling over and giving all the inside some serious lovin’.
Her eyes they did wander, straight to the kids’ DIY craft sleigh
Which she lovingly moved aside to find the Chardonnay
With a twist of the wrist, so lively and quick
She burst through the foil and poured a glass, quick!
More rapid than eagles, her tears now they came
She cursed them and shouted, and called recipes by name!
“Now spiral ham! Now, squash! Now, roll dough do grow!
On jell-o salad! On, green beans! On, stupid sweet potato!
“To the dinner table!” she begged, as if conjuring meal wishes.
“Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away dishes!”
As dried bits on casserole dishes do cake
When met with some heat and a too-long bake,
So did the dishes adhere to their food
She cranked up Pandora and got in dish washin’ mood.
Why are these dishes blocking my wine glass?
And then in a twinkling, she heard from above
Advice from her mother-in-law, given with “love”.
As she drew in a breath, and turned around
There MIL came, ambling down.
She was dressed in a house coat, “’cause it’s freezing in here!”
But that didn’t stop the barrage, never fear.
A bundle of tips she spouted and cried
“Never have I ever burned a casserole,” she lied.
Her eyes how they glistened! Her smudged lipstick, how merry!
She looked like she hadn’t even gotten into the sherry.
Her droll little mouth spouted tip after tip
Causing the poor cook to nod, sniff, and sip
From her emptying wine glass, which she grasped like a hawk
Until, from the other room, she heard a pop!
“Oh honey! The kids are down?” she called with a grin
And passed off his mother just as he walked in.
Hubby looked surprise, surely off to find Netflix and beer
“Your mother was just saying what a great job I’m doing here!”
A wink of my eye and a silent, begging plea
Hubby knew this was not the time to mess with her, erm, me.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
Removing his mom from the kitchen, man I love that jerk!
And laying a wet towel on the sweet potato mess
I started again, mashing ‘tatoes with my press.
I sprang to my dishwasher and set it to go
Put up the casseroles, jutting to and fro
Tomorrow’s a day to celebrate and be merry with friends
Who cares is one or two casseroles (and the oven) meet its end?
The moral is clear, as you can see
Advice, tips, and suggestions need not be given to me
Until I’ve had my first crisp wine flight.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good bite!