[dropcap]Y[/dropcap]ou’d never know by visiting stores or listening to the radio, but Thanksgiving is just a few days away. Y’all remember Thanksgiving, right? The day friends and family gather to stuff themselves of delicious vittles, watch some football, eat more turkey and pumpkin pie, and pass out on the sofa before 7:30 p.m. Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, but I believe retailers think of Thanksgiving as a red-headed step-child to Father Christmas. I saw Christmas stuff in stores as I was searching for last-minute Halloween decorations. I’m sorry, but isn’t October a tad early to be promoting Christmas?
Since I am in a festive mood, I thought I’d give y’all a serving of my Thanksgiving Crow to get you in the spirit of this holiday. I normally write my Christmas poem in December, but I think Thanksgiving needs a little promoting.
"T’was the week before Thanksgiving, when driving my truck,
I might just miss the holiday rush with a little luck.
A Honey-do list was hung on the refrigerator door.
We were headed back to the store once more.
Maw wearing her flip-flops, me a John Deere cap,
Wishin’ I was back home takin’ me a nap.
As I turned on the radio, there arose such a clatter,
I listened closely to hear what was the matter.
And what to my waxy ears did I hear
But that silly song about a red-nose reindeer!
Say it ain’t so! It’s too early this year
To be listening to songs of holiday cheer.
More Frosty, more Rudolph. More “Jingle Bells” and “Silent Night”.
Now playing on radios and in stores. That just ain’t right!
For months, stores had Christmas décor stacked along the wall.
Dash away, dash away, I don’t want to hear “Deck the Hall”.
I might be a bit grumpy, but speaking for myself,
It’s time to celebrate Thanksgiving and not the jolly old elf.
My eyes may still twinkle, tho’ slightly puffy.
My cheeks are a bit fuzzy, my nose quite stuffy.
My droll little mouth smells of Old Crow,
The stubble on my chin is white as snow.
I have a broad face and an empty belly,
That growls at the thought of peanut butter and jelly.
I spoke not word but went straight to work.
We filled that shopping cart and paid the clerk.
Then stomping the gas pedal with my boot,
Out of the parking lot my truck did scoot.
As I drove through traffic like a scared rabbit,
I shouted to all, “It’s Thanksgiving, dagnabbit!
You won’t be seeing Christmas decorations up at the Younts’ house just yet. But when you see the old pick-em-up truck, Old Blue, out front covered in lights ... you know Thanksgiving has passed.
