Thanksgiving for Two

Due to the pandemic the children are not coming. 

The adults will set a table for two and wait for the zoom chat after the game with 

the Dallas Cowboys and

the Washington Football Team

formerly known as the Redskins.

 

They will double their Thanksgiving feast of

Burger’s Hickory Smoked Spiral Sliced City ham,

Betty Crocker’s Cheddar and Bacon Scalloped potatoes,

Bake House Creations Crescent rolls,

oven roasted Brussel sprouts with bacon,

sliced acorn squash with a brown sugar glaze,

and a five cup Ambrosia salad of sour cream,

pineapple tidbits, canned Mandarin oranges in light syrup, organic flake coconut and mini marshmallows

marinated until the marshmallows get gooey

and impart sweetness to the sour cream.

 

The Trump over Biden over any Democrat arguments

will thankfully not happen this year

and blissfully never again.  For this year,

at least, things will seem to return to normal.

The miracle will go by unrecorded, unnoticed.

 

They are secretly glad they don’t have to dress up

in the Pilgrim and Indian dress embroidered

with wild turkeys, Indian corn that creased around

to reveal the vast wild fields and forest ready

to be explored and traded for beads and

promises of sharing the American bounty;

the ugly Garfield the Cat sweater over

the crisp white shirt and black slacks

bought at the J.C. Penny liquidation sale.

Today Dad will proudly wear his

aqua Miami Dolphins jersey,  sweat pants,

socks and comfy ‘Phins black briefs

with the not so stretchy waist band.

 

Go Tua,  memories of the

undefeated Dolphins 1972 season,

the big Thanksgiving brawls of 1977

spurred by Conrad Dobler

dirty hits on Bob Griese,

the Dan Marino five Turkey Day

interceptions against the Dallas Cowboys

in 1999 that was the final sunset of

a first ballot Hall of Farmer career

danced in Dad’s head.

Mom just wanted to catch up on

all those Dark Shadows soaps and

Housewives of Whatever she missed.

Dressed in her blue angels nightgown

she rolled her eyes when

first football game of the day switched on.

 

They vaguely dreamed of the days

when his hair was thick and black

and hers was long, golden and easy;

all the trips they planned

and sometimes took

where they climbed bluffs

and overlooked storybook plains.

 

Today they would look at each other

with the same everyday stare

and notice their wrinkled hands

and clink together the strong, cheap wine

poured into leftover mason jars.

They toasted each other

and whatever would come next,

the decades of side by side,

their great good luck,

the incoming Zoom

of children and grandchildren.