Ode To A Date Roll

I just read my sister's blog (she doesn't write very often, but when she does, it always makes me smile).   It's been a difficult time for our family these last few months as my dad's health has declined.   My mother has been a rock.  When I grow up I want to be just like her.  My sister was reminiscing about some of her childhood memories - in particular, Christmas memories.   We both have a ton of really great Christmas memories.   The one, however, that my sister recounted this morning was about date rolls.   You see, every year at Christmas my mother would make a delicious date roll.   And it was perfection.  My sister loves to bake, and tries to recreate this date roll every Christmas, and she says she mostly fails (I don't believe her!).  This year, though, I think in honor of our mother, she was determined to make it perfectly.   Just like mom did.  I don't think it worked out so well.

ODE TO A DATE ROLL (by Emma's daughter, who cannot make a date roll to save her life)
The color's not right, it tastes like a shoe.
I honestly, truly, don't know what to do.
I went to the store, bought all the right stuff,
And yes, I'm pretty sure I bought quite enough.
I carted my groceries out of my car,
Into the house and onto the bar.

I got out the thermometer, the pot, and the spoon.
I knew that the grandsons would both be home soon.
And, oh, they would marvel.  They'd oooh and they'd aahh
At this wonderful creation as soon as they saw.
But what did they see when they walked in the door?
My pot and my spoon and myself on the floor.
I give up, I give up I said in a stateYou can all go fishing and use it as bait.
So now I give up, I won't do it again,
At least til next year when, who knows, I might win

My sister can't make a date roll to save her life, I can't write a poem to save my life.  So, I stole hers.  Cherish your families, with all their imperfections.  They are the greatest Christmas gift ever!

Mom - - we love you.