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T’was the Night Before Thanksgiving–A Hockey Mom Poem

Written by Emily Erson

T’was the night before Thanksgiving, and every hockey mom around,
Was scrambling to get the SUV loaded for that tournament out of town.
The equipment spread out through the garage with care,
In hopes that that stench would soon clear the air.

The referees were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of 2 and 10’s danced in their heads.
Defensemen are thinking, “How hard can I check?”
And coaches were practicing their lines, “Hey Ref, what the heck?”

When soon on my phone there arose such a chatter,
I stepped away from my local attractions search to see what was the matter.
It was the in-laws all huffing and puffing with haste,
Asking me why we think family time is such a waste.

There’s some that don’t get it, the hockey mom life,
And others who fuss and condemn it with strife,
But Thanksgiving is hockey time tried and true,
Take it or leave it, but it is what we do.

“Time to go,” yells mom, “We’ve got to zoom.”
A quick stop at the hotel, then off for the locker room.
More rapid than eagles they stepped on the ice,
Coach was smiling and cheering, “A win sure’d be nice.”

To the top of the circle! To the point, off the wall!
Now crash the net! Crash the net? Crash the net all!
Pass Jonny! Skate, Suzy! Move the puck to the slot!
Find the open man, now do, now do it, one time that shot!

Their goalie did stop it; it bounced off his glove,
But our captain was there to give that puck a hard shove;
Into the net it went, without the slightest of doubt,
“Way to go!” “That’s my kid!” We heard a hockey mom shout.

The first game was over, and our team, it had won!
Now off to the hotel for some Thanksgiving fun!
Take-out, pizza, or maybe Chinese.
I know, let’s play hockey with tiny sticks on our knees.

The parents all gather around with their drinks,
Until the hotel manager comes, then it’s off for their winks.
We awake bright and early to watch hockey all day,
I can’t think of spending my Thanksgiving any other way.

The kids sprang to the ice; coach gave his team a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim, as they skated out of sight,

About the author

Emily Erson

I am a full-time teacher, mother, driver of children, cooker of dinner, washer of laundry, sayer of whatever is on my mind and hockey mom extraordinaire. In my free time --like that exists--I blog in order to vent the frustration that comes with raising 3 kids. My mantra, blogging and ranting are better than a drinking problem.

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