Happy Thanksgiving

She sat on the bed all day; trying to find rest on a bale of hay. She couldn't turn, could not sleep, waiting on a baby, all day. But the night came and baby did not. So she knew her next meal would be in a pot. She worried and fret, till she was red in the face. Tomorrow was the day that the whole human race; would be huffing and puffing, it would be a disgrace. She had not even started the salad dressing. Hadn't started the puddings and pumpkin pie. What would she do, if the baby didn't arrive? She would be stuck waiting aside. Soon daybreak had came and the baby had not. She knew now for certain it was surely the pot; as she watched the farmer coming at a fast trot. So she arose with pride, resigned to her fate and awaited his arrival at the barnyard gate. But in the end she let a great sigh, for he took her husband and let her get by. Oh what a feast Daddy would make, as a center piece on the table, right next to the cake.