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Ah, the day after!
A turkey sandwich with cranberries,
and maybe even stuffing,
down the stairs I come waddling,
my lungs huffing and puffing.
I stumble to the kitchen
as daylight meets the dawn,
start to empty the dishwasher
before slowly moving on.
There I find Aunt Flora's dish,
the one she didn't claim,
instead, she took home Grace's
with no chips, and no taped name.
I wonder if my uncle
can close his pant's top button,
he ate too many helpings,
but he always was a glutton.
Bet Louie is hung over
he drank all of the punch,
after spiking it with vodka,
his head must hurt a bunch.
Gran retrieved her casserole
with most of it left over,
tho' the kids tried desperately
to feed it to old Rover.
Matt and Art aren't speaking,
fighting over politics,
will they forget by Christmas
or will each opinion stick?
And speaking now of Christmas,
I'd better get in gear,
And hit the malls this morning
to beat the rush this year.
I guess I'll grab some pumpkin pie
with whipped cream on the top,
and hope I can get in my jeans
I don't have time to stop.
I'll just lie down across the bed
and hold my tummy in,
tugging at the zipper
while my hubby sports a grin.
Then rush back home by noontime
to open up the fridge,
dig out those good leftovers,
and a pie made by Aunt Midge.
The houseguests should be rising,
tho' last night, we were up late
they'll love reheated foodstuffs
for it still will taste just great.
The men will spend another day
with football on TV,
and kids will run us ragged
just you wait and see.
By evening we may settle down,
play games, decorate the tree,
for it's one more month till Christmas
meaning - no free time left for me!
Tamara Hillman
 2007
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