The Jensen Christmas Eve Dinner Brawl

The Minnesota night was cold;

Ask the man on the street:

It was so cold your words would freeze,

Drop, and break at your feet.

That didn't stop the Jensens at all--

Is that so hard to believe?--

From hosting their annual family feast

That frigid Christmas Eve.

 

One by one the families poured in

Bearing gifts and food.

Onkel Karl and Tante Inge

Arrived with their brood.

Onkel Jakob and Tante Hilde

And their three kids…Oh, dear!

If I listed all of the relatives,

It would take a year.

 

Of beer and wine and all kinds of spirits,

Of course, there were a LOT there.

Cousins Arne and Jan were already

Snockered when they got there.

Maybe that explains in part

The reason for the fight

That put a damper on the mood

On such a festive night.

 

The families had all sat down to dinner

And gazed upon the spread:

Potato dumplings, salads, sausage,

And cabbage, white and red.

Arne, staring at the roasted pig

With a look distant and glazy,

Made a funny joke about

Republicans being crazy.

 

All at once, the room grew quiet;

Nobody made a sound.

Everybody looked at Jan,

Who glared at Arne and frowned.

To change the mood, Pastor Olsen

Said, "Let's all say grace."
Just as he started, Arne got

A lutefisk in the face.

 

The roasted pig, the salads and lefse

Landed on the floor

As Arne and Jan pounded each other,

And wrestled, kicked, and swore.

The two were covered from head to foot

With gravy, potatoes, and fish.

The last straw was when they broke Grandma’s

Favorite rosemaled dish.

 

Suddenly, everybody heard

The sharpest, loudest BANG!

Followed by an echo.

Au! How their ears rang!

Grandma Liv was standing there

With a rifle in her hand.

No one was going to argue with her;

She was in command.

 

Above her was a hole in the ceiling;

Plaster speckled her hair.

The huge room was a total mess--

Food was everywhere.

"Scrape up what you can," she ordered.

"We're going to try this again.

Arne and Jan, just one word

And you two are dead men."

 

(Luckily there was no one upstairs

Above the dining room,

Though Onkel Odd was across the hall

When he heard the boom.

He was--and who wouldn't be--

So startled by the shot,

That the poor man jumped two feet in the air

And fell right off the pot.)

 

With dinner salvaged and the table reset,

Again they sat down to dine.

Grandma Liv sternly said,

"Now, family of mine:

Let's enjoy this Christmas feast.

Show me you are able

To have a pleasant evening and keep

Politics away from the table."

 

Having said that, she smiled and placed

Her rifle in her lap.

Not a soul dared to test her

For fear that she would snap.

Arne and Jan, battered and bruised,

Silently sipped their soup,

To Jan, Grandma said, "Din idiot!"

To Arne, "Nincompoop!"

 

The hole in the ceiling will remain

As a warning--or constant threat--

Of possible consequences lest

Anybody forget

That political talk at the dinner table

Was something they must nix,

For sausages, pig, lefse, booze,

And politics do not mix.

 

(12-11-15)