Faux Turkey

Thanksgiving dinner wasn't supposed to turn out this way,
I had the dinner all planned
down to the last cranberry
in the cranberry sauce.

We were going to have
a humongous turkey,
with heaps of mashed potatoes,
cargo boats of gravy,
a garden of green salad
with loads of honey-mustard dressing,
and enough pumpkin pie
to feed the crew of the USS Enterprise.

My goal was to impress
my mother-in-law's new husband.

Early Thanksgiving morning
I stuffed the gigantic turkey
into my too small oven.,
set the oven's timer,
and went back to bed.

Several hours latter
I was awakened by the smoke alarm,
I rushed into the kitchen
to find my husband
attempting to baste the turkey
and the smoking oven
with the chemicals
in the fire extinguisher.

It was at this point that I made the biggest mistake
of my married life:
I let my husband go to the grocery store
to purchase a replacement turkey.

He returned with
what appeared to be a turkey breast;
spelled out on the front of the box was t-o-f-u-r-k-y.

"Dear," I smiled sweetly,
"why didn't you get a real turkey?"

"That is a real turkey,
somebody just doesn't know
how to spell turkey."

At that moment the doorbell ring.

Poet's Note: ▼

Line Count: 40
Form: Free verse
Story rewritten: "Tofurkey Day" 
Written for "The Writer's Cramp" .