Christmas Dinner With the In-laws’, a poem by Stevie Turner (to be sung to the tune of ‘Silent Night’).

“Oh”, she sighs.

Then she tries

To insert a turkey

Twice the size.

The oven door

Won’t shut anymore,

Legs and wings stick out of the door.

“Shit – the dinner won’t be done…

When the in-laws come.”

Flustered and grim

She starts on the gin,

It goes down well,

What the hell…

She gives a rather maniacal laugh,

Then she saws the turkey in half.

“That’s the thing to do!”

Then she crawls into her shoe.

The turkey was burned

In-laws were stern,

“Why did our son

Marry such a duff one?

The sprouts were hard and the spuds were a joke,

She’s no good at feeding her bloke.”

They walk out the door,

She falls asleep on the floor.

She wakes with a jolt,

With a gut in revolt,

He cares not she feels ill,

He loves her still.

“I loved every bit of my dinner.”

She knows that she’s married a winner.

“I’ll never drink gin again!

When in-laws I must entertain.”