I ended up with a decidedly less than festive Thanksgiving meal. Couldn't find any yams or sweet potatoes. Couldn't find any pumpkin pie. And there ain't no turkeys in these parts. So I had a hunk of chicken, a can of peas and carrots, and mashed potatoes. And an ice cream sandwich for dessert. My guest for dinner was the big fat brown dog, who did quite enjoy the chicken (which she said tasted just like turkey to her), but turned down the potatoes, complaining that they didn't even taste like potatoes. And she was right, for they were powdered potatoes.
I couldn't help but apologize. It's just not like Thanksgiving, I said.
Well, she observed, there's no place like home for the holidays.
'cause no matter how far away you roam,
if you want to be happy in a million ways,
for the holidays you can't beat home sweet home.
I couldn't help but apologize. It's just not like Thanksgiving, I said.
Well, she observed, there's no place like home for the holidays.
'cause no matter how far away you roam,
if you want to be happy in a million ways,
for the holidays you can't beat home sweet home.
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