Our turkey dinner's hardly gone
when Daddy says, "The game is on."
He tunes it in, takes off his shoes,
and turns to watch his heroes lose.
He seems to take it very hard
whenever they fall short a yard.
"Another incomplete," he grunts,
"more penalties, more bungled punts."
"They're missing tackles," Daddy mumbles,
"dropping passes, making fumbles. . .
INTERCEPTION!" Daddy roars,
as once again the wrong team scores.
He sits and screams, we sit and grin,
he gets so mad when they don't win.
Thanksgiving wouldn't be the same
without my father's football game
Jack Prelutsky
Leaves in the autumn came tumbling down,
Scarlet and yellow, russet and brown,
Leaves in the garden were swept in a heap,
Trees were undressing ready for sleep.
-Unknown
