The Christmas Ham That Flew Away

 

Well hear dis one yah now! Christmas Eve come, an’ everybody in de house busy busy. Mama cleaning, Daddy stringing up de Christmas lights (and cussing cause de bulb dem keep blowing), and me an’ my lil sister wrapping up de last-minute gifts. But lemme tell you bout de star ah de story—de Christmas ham.

Now, dis ham wasn’t no ordinary ham, yuh know. Mama order it from some special farm way up in de countryside, and it come big, juicy, an’ smelling like heaven. She soak it down in pineapple juice, cloves, an’ her secret seasoning mix from since two days ago. De whole house smelling like Christmas done start early.

So, de ham done bake, golden brown and shining like a piece ah gold in de pan. Mama put it pon de kitchen table, right by de window, to cool off. She warn everybody, "Nobody touch me ham, yuh hear! Dis ham is for Christmas lunch, not one piece missin!"

Well, everybody obey, cause when Mama talk, yuh listen. But guess who nuh listen? De stray cat from round de yard!

Me sittin in de living room watching Christmas movie when I hear a BAM! I run go see, an’ lo and behold de ham missing, an’ de window wide open. All I see is fur an’ legs flying through de backyard. De cat somehow jump through de window an’ tek off wid de whole ham in it mouth!

"MAMA! De ham gone!" I bawl. Mama come running, flour still pon she apron, an’ when she see de empty table, she nearly faint. "Wha kinda crosses is dis now?!" she holler.

Well, Daddy grab he flashlight, tie up he sneakers, an’ say, "Ain’t no cat eating my Christmas ham!" We all join de ham rescue mission me, Mama, Daddy, an’ even de neighbor who hear de commotion and decide he joining too.

We search high an’ low. We comb through de bushes, check behind de old car, even under de neighbor coconut tree. Next thing, we hear lil sister bawling, "Look de ham!"

De cat up in de mango tree, clutching de ham like it name Christmas dinner. Daddy try shoo it down, but de cat hiss an’ hold on tighter. Next ting we know, de ham slip out it paw an’ drop SPLAT straight in de mud.

Mama stand up, arms akimbo, watching she prized ham covered in dirt an’ leaves. "Well, de devil tek Christmas dis year," she mutter. But Daddy wasn’t giving up. He scoop up de ham, carry it inside, rinse it off, an’ say, "Ham soup it is!"

And so, Christmas Day come, an’ instead ah de usual baked ham, we sit down to the tastiest ham soup you ever taste. Mama say, "De cat mighta win de first round, but we still eatin ham!"

Up to now, anytime we see dat stray cat, we shout, "Ham thief!" an’ it run like it still guilty.