If asked to sing a Christmas carol, it isn’t likely the first one that pops in your head is “Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat…” But, now that I mention it, I bet you can sing the whole carol all the way through. I know Christmas is over, but sing one last carol with me,
“Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat.
Please put a penny in the old man’s hat.
If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do.
If you haven’t got a ha’penny, God Bless You!”
There is a story here… The Monday before Christmas as I was writing my grocery list for the week, I said to my husband, “Christmas is coming, what should I make for dinner?” I shouldn’t have said it that way, because it rang a bell and he sang the tune, “Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat…so a GOOSE!” “No way!” I said even before he finished saying the word “goose.” Our eldest daughter was in the kitchen with us and had recently read “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens in her literature class. One of the most famous Christmas dinners of all time is the one on Bob Cratchit’s family table. So she sided with him, “We had a Victorian-themed Christmas celebration at school, mom, so we ne-eee-ed to have a goose for our Christmas dinner!” I sighed and looked at my husband, “Fine, you roast it, I’ll eat it.” I don’t know why my husband was so surprised when it turned out that a goose isn’t easy to find. I don’t know anyone who has goose for Christmas. But, unfortunately for the goose, my husband doesn’t give up easily. After a dozen or so calls to local supermarkets and meat markets over a couple of days, he finally found a frozen goose one hour away! So, on Christmas Eve, there was a frozen goose on our counter. It wouldn’t fit at first in the refrigerator to thaw because I had that refrigerator stuffed full (partly because hidden on the bottom shelf was a ham I bought for a back-up meal should this goose turn out inedible). My husband was rearranging the refrigerator when I noticed the price tag on the goose had been ripped from the package. “How much did this goose cost?!” I knew my husband was hiding it from me! I managed to get my hand in his pocket before he knew what was happening, and pulled out the torn tag, “$76.74!!!!” Well, the tag didn’t have the exclamation points, but it should’ve! I told my husband to get his new fedora out and get looking for some ha’pennies! Of course, my husband suggested we start raising geese on the franch for that price! I didn’t say another word. In the end, that very elusive and expensive goose thawed, and Christmas came, and, on our dinner table, I must admit, was a perfectly roasted and delicious Christmas goose!