Tag: cooking

Each year I tend to see my family well before Christmas for our get together because my dad works away a lot of the time so we tend to fit it in where we can, and today was that day.

My parents were there, my sister and her husband and step daughter, my brother and his wife and two of his children and the 4 of us.  We don’t get together that often, perhaps a couple of times a year at best, and It was mostly as you would expect from a family gathering – there was food, the exchange of gifts and a few games before we all headed or seperate ways again.

The top highlights for me though were, in no particular order:

My dad announcing rather loudly and somewhat proudly that he must go and have a poo as the gift unwrapping started.  We didn’t wait as he tends to be a lingerer.

I commented that my nephew looks like his mum (not my brothers current wife) and he amusingly asked whether he really looked like an alcoholic middle aged woman.  And if you are wondering yes he does.  Not a great look for a 16 year old.

My vegetarian wife being warned that one of the cheesy pastry things was best avoided as it had pepperoni in it and she should instead have one of the other ones.  Turns out that that one only had really small pieces of ham in it so it’s almost meat free.

When playing games the question was “name 3 ways to make a baby stop crying.”  My niece offered “Feed it, sing to it, give it a bottle.”  My eldest offered “Stab it.”  Quite a lot of disturning baby murder jokes ensued.

Family eh!  Happy early Christmas…

Oh bring me your turkey, it’s anus and gizzards

it’s Christmas and we need to eat

this fellow was killed and hung up on a cross

so rejoice with some servings of meat

I’ll have sweet panda sausage and lashings of gravy

a pie made of puppies and cats

and some spicy kebabs made of hamsters and gerbils

and a bbq sauce made of rats

Give me eagle wings sticky with dark sweet molasses

and elephant steaks thick and rare

and a slow roasted monkey with sides of plump rabbit

and a soup full of grilled koala bear

maybe curry with kittens or maybe a souffle

of lightly browned mice or some sparrow

and a serving of horse topped with mash and some carrots

or a stew with a soft llama bone marrow

And let’s not forget dishes with sauteed gorilla

and some spicy meat balls made of camel

for it’s Christmas you see and as Jesus once said

“Eat it up, oh rejoice, cook than mammal!”

Snow Crisp, blue skies, mulled wine, mince pies

wonder seen in children’s eyes

and gifts unwrappd with such surprise

in the hearth a fire burns

And family travels many miles

break bread together, warmest smiles

’tis season now to reconcile

as slowly seasons turn

And bellies full and drink it flows

facades they fade and contempt grows

and pretty soon they come to blows

past sleights so soon return

And dad gets smashed, insults son’s wife

siblings argue, filled with strife

and mother cries, she hates her life

for someone else she yearns

And she says he’s “just like his dad”

Then he protests “well youre mum’s mad!

and when she’s dead I will be glad!”

and children lessons learn

of family feuds and anger lingers

whilse drunken uncle Albert fingers

his own anus, in the bathroom lingers

without care or concern

They scream and shout, insults and hate

and cry and sob but it’s too late

the damage done, ain’t Christmas great

when will we ever learn…

Night still and calm all through the night

They travel ‘cross the skies

And pull their load for girls and boys

For Christmas morn surprise

With Gifts wrapped bright such joy they bring

And never ever late

Beneath the tree their cargo sits

For youngsters to locate

And off once more away they set

God speed into the night

Unknownst to them below he has

Them firmly in his sight

He calms his breath and sets his sight

a finger on the trigger

and zooms right in above the heart

the target he makes bigger

For meat he craves, and prey to hunt

A quarry none have taken

This year it’s reindeer meat he craves

A sausage wrapped in bacon

Or chops or ribs or tender flank

Or maybe steak’s the answer

Or Rudolph snout or Blitzen pie

Or lightly sautéed Dancer

He holds his breath, squeezes a shot

that echoes in the night

and watches, slowly as it snows

and ends their lives mid flight