Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the kitchen,
not a pot nor a pan was clean, not even a smidgen.
The dishtowels were hung on the oven handle with care,
in hopes that someone, anyone would wash the dishes if they dare.
As a new box of SOS pads sat snug under the sink;
visions of a clean kitchen danced in my head, I think.
And as I sighed and began to wash the first platter,
in the family room there arose such a clatter;
I looked up from the bubbles to see what was a matter!
That's when I saw them, one, two and three;
coming into the kitchen to set me free!
They came to the sink and grabbed the bottle of Dawn,
as the suds bubbled up and the hot water was drawn;
"We'll do the dishes tonight, Mother," the youngest spoke,
as his sister took the glass from my hand before it broke.
"Happy Thanksgiving Eve, Mother!"
I heard them call out as I walked away in surprise,
"Don't count on this tomorrow,
we'll be leaving right after dinner for all those great buys!"
You're fabulous. And I want you to adopt me.
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