When everyone is late
And all you can do is think about getting a plate
The temperature inside the place
Makes red of your face
Children running here and there
People ignore the kids behavior everywhere
The adults don’t ask to help out
And your gravy gets too stout
The oven cannot keep up with the dishes
You hear comments about Christmas wishes
And all you want to do is eat
But you realize you’re the only one on her feet
The first things cooked start to cool
Everyone knows that’s breaking a serving rule
By the time people start to smell the aroma
The kids try to find their momma
In comes a cascade of kids without their folks
One tries to sneak a taste and starts acting like they’ve choked
Where is all the help and support
I would say that some have gathered outside under the carport
And again as the food finally finishes
You are having to put out all the dishes
Realizing all too late
That you are short a couple plates
Yelling into the other room
You ask someone to find your broom
No one notices your plea
Only what they’re watching on TV
So you go, no one caught the clue
Of course, why not you
After all, this is Thanksgiving blues.
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