Is That Deja Vu I Smell?
Maybe I shouldn't do it but somehow, I'm finding it difficult to hold back. My Spidey Senses are a'tingling and with Christmas so near, that must mean something. I will explain.
Last year, I received as a Christmas gift, two ceramic chickens sitting on nests. One was a sugar bowl, one was a milk pouring thing. In addition, there was a yellow chick (salt shaker) sitting on an open egg (pepper shaker). Now, in the right kitchen, these would have been very quaint and sweet looking. Unfortunately, my kitchen was not the right one. I have no farm animal themes going on and never have. I know the giver meant well, but to open that on Christmas morning was just...typical.
Out of frustration, a little poem just bubbled up inside of me and I typed it and saved it. In honor of the approaching holiday, and in honor of all those who know where I'm coming from, I'm putting it here. I call it:
Ode to a Chicken
Chicken, Chicken...there you sit,
On a nest of fake straw, blankly staring a bit.
Not moving, nor clucking, just with an open beak,
That stupid mouth pours milk, my my, oh how chic.
I hate you, Oh Chicken, you make me so glum.
In truth I don't understand who, or why, you came from.
A thought from the heart, that's plainly so true,
But why was it me, who got this tacky doo-doo?
I guess I was doomed, from the first Christmas that passed,
A tradition was born, that would last, last, last, last.
No jewelry for me, no cds, or shoes,
Just granny panties, and bad books, stuff that gave me the blues.
Cheer up, I'm told, it could all be much worse,
Though I wonder just how, and I mutter, all terse.
I will have my revenge, and oh it will be sweet,
One day, I'll repay them and there will be no retreat.
Need a caftan, a turban, tacky shades and gold shoes?
Look out folks, 'cause that stuff's headed for you.
Just smile and say thanks, that's what I always said,
Even though my eyes were rolling back in my head.
Am I bitter, maybe a little, but then I've had reason,
For every birthday and holiday, it's been Bad Gift Season!
So good luck Chicken, and don't ever be afraid,
Compared to you as a gift, no bigger egg has been laid!
The End.
Last year, I received as a Christmas gift, two ceramic chickens sitting on nests. One was a sugar bowl, one was a milk pouring thing. In addition, there was a yellow chick (salt shaker) sitting on an open egg (pepper shaker). Now, in the right kitchen, these would have been very quaint and sweet looking. Unfortunately, my kitchen was not the right one. I have no farm animal themes going on and never have. I know the giver meant well, but to open that on Christmas morning was just...typical.
Out of frustration, a little poem just bubbled up inside of me and I typed it and saved it. In honor of the approaching holiday, and in honor of all those who know where I'm coming from, I'm putting it here. I call it:
Ode to a Chicken
Chicken, Chicken...there you sit,
On a nest of fake straw, blankly staring a bit.
Not moving, nor clucking, just with an open beak,
That stupid mouth pours milk, my my, oh how chic.
I hate you, Oh Chicken, you make me so glum.
In truth I don't understand who, or why, you came from.
A thought from the heart, that's plainly so true,
But why was it me, who got this tacky doo-doo?
I guess I was doomed, from the first Christmas that passed,
A tradition was born, that would last, last, last, last.
No jewelry for me, no cds, or shoes,
Just granny panties, and bad books, stuff that gave me the blues.
Cheer up, I'm told, it could all be much worse,
Though I wonder just how, and I mutter, all terse.
I will have my revenge, and oh it will be sweet,
One day, I'll repay them and there will be no retreat.
Need a caftan, a turban, tacky shades and gold shoes?
Look out folks, 'cause that stuff's headed for you.
Just smile and say thanks, that's what I always said,
Even though my eyes were rolling back in my head.
Am I bitter, maybe a little, but then I've had reason,
For every birthday and holiday, it's been Bad Gift Season!
So good luck Chicken, and don't ever be afraid,
Compared to you as a gift, no bigger egg has been laid!
The End.
posted by PeachCobbler | 11:06 AM
2 Comments:
Sure thing! Say, do you need any sugar on those 'flakes? How about some salt and pepper?
Actually, some other lucky person is going to have to pull down some big Ebay bucks as I couldn't stand it any longer and donated the chickens to a worthy cause.
Some where out there, some lucky person is holding up the ceramic chickens and chortling, "Look Maw! Our fortune is made. Do you know just how much these'll fetch on ebay?"
Okay in that case. . . . .
Heeeeere chickychickychicky!
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