Its a family tradition
one of many we have
teasing each other mercilessly
over meals ruined so disastrously
despite best laid plans
and hours of preparations invested.
The alarm sounds loud
signaling dinner is ready now
smoke billowing all over
as the house is choked
upon the fumes raised
in praise of the gods.
Grandpa used to ask, Are we now gods?
to receive the burnt offerings from the altar?
As the fire trucks rolled up neighbors laughed
It wasn't a family dinner without two alarms.
But in the end, we ate it anyway
for back then money was mighty damned tight.
Grandma lead the way
teaching us all the skill
of forgetting some dish
in the oven still on
even as we tried
not to emulate her acts.
But blood tells best
and is thicker than water
and every single year
one of us screws up
making the last dish
an extra crisply charred treat.
Grandpa used to ask, Are we now gods?
to receive the burnt offerings from the altar?
So we seek the truth of his question
by staging the event each and every year
in honor of Grandma's charcoal manufacturing family events
to the entertainment of those not immediately downwind.
Now this ain't sacrilegious
for we never banned folks
from our dining tables
all were welcome to sit
and partake the meal
and join us in laughing
As the alarm squeals
to let us all know
that dinner is done
and the fire department's here
pre-deployed for the trouble
when they saw us parking.
But we just laugh
and set out more places
knowing our family history!
as we say the grace
praying for strong breezes
to carry the smoke away.
Like Grandpa we ask, Are we now gods?
to receive the burnt offerings from the altar?
In truth its just this, we are forgetful
and leave a dish in too darned long
by genetic predestination set in motion by Grandma
and our distracting her at the wrong moment.
(12/11/2011 - Dyfedd Rex)
No, it was not that often, but frequent enough, and all of us added our own extra crispy creations over the years... But Grandma always seemed to be leading the way...
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