Mitt And Apron Poem by Carmela Patterson

The 22 pound turkey was roasting
And inwardly I was boasting
...but....
Its' spilled juices were hot;
I simply had to blot!

I flung off my red oven mitt ablaze with fire;
I stomped on it hard, my need dire.
Then noticed other flames - Holy Moly!
Why didn't I choose to serve Bertoli!

I ran to the sink my apron enflamed
Ran the water - Whew! I exclaimed.
I calmly trod into the family room
Fire put out, there was no fume.

Everyone sat with eyes agape;
We all laughed for heaven's sake.
A charred hole was visible to each eye;
The apron and the mitt the tale did bely.

A roar of laughter sprung from their guts
At the expense of this silly ole dumb klutz.
The smile this evokes when I remember
My apron and mitt became an ember
On Thanksgiving Holiday that November.