Family Christmas Dinner

You'll take some prawn cocktail,
my Aunty sighed,
and some bread sticks to ensure that you're fed?
And some soup with a crouton, my Uncle replied, and a slice of my home-made bread?
There's turkey and stuffing,
my Gran interjected,
and chips and potatoes and peas,
And sprouts so delicious they're Birdseye rejected, and carrots as salt as the seas.
Plus there's fillets of sea bass, my Cousin conjectured, with potatoes whipped up to a cream,
And stuffed avocado imported from Telford, and courgettes sautéed in Rice Dream.
And you'll want Christmas pudding,
my Mother insisted,
and brandy butter with vodka and gin,
No, black bun and custard, my Father persisted, and cake iced with the flavour left in.
And won't you try my mince pies,
my Sister opined,
or some chocolate or a Newbury fruit?
But I just clutched my stomach and rudely declined, then threw up on my Grandfather's foot.

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