My mother, center, and my 6 sisters. (Tragically, I am the one picking my nose. I don't do that anymore, thank you)
Mom read to each of her children, nearly every single night. One of my favorites was this wonderful poem you probably know. Maybe you even memorized it. It is most fitting to include, along with this great new Cantonese chicken soup with rice recipe.
In January it’s so nice, while slipping on the sliding ice,
To sip hot chicken soup with rice.
Slipping once, sipping twice, sipping chicken soup with rice.
In February it will be my snowman’s anniversary,
With cake for him and soup for me!
Happy once, happy twice, happy chicken soup with rice.
In March the wind blows down the door and spill my soup upon the floor.
It laps it up and roars for more.
Blowing once, blowing twice, blowing chicken soup with rice.
In April I will go away, to far-off Spain or old Bombay, And dream about hot soup all day.
Oh my once, oh my twice, oh my chicken soup with rice.
In May I truly think it best to be a robin lightly dressed, Concocting soup inside my nest.
Mix it once, mix it twice, mix that chicken soup with rice.
In June I saw a charming group of roses all begin to droop. I pepped them up with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once, sprinkle twice, sprinkle chicken soup with rice.
In July I’ll take a peep into the cool and fishy deep, Where chicken soup is selling cheap,
Selling once, selling twice, selling chicken soup with rice.
In August it will be so hot, I will become a cooking pot. Cooking soup of course. Why not?
Cooking once, cooking twice, cooking chicken soup with rice.
In September for a while, I will ride a crocodile Down the chicken soupy Nile.
Paddle once, paddle twice, paddle chicken soup with rice
In October I’ll host to witches, goblins, and a ghost. I’ll serve them chicken soup on toast.
Whoopy once, whoopy twice, whoopy chicken soup with rice.
In November’s gusty gale I will flop my flippy tail. And spout hot soup. I’ll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice, spouting chicken soup with rice.
In December I will be a baubled, baubled Christmas tree With soup bowls draped all over me.
Merry once, merry twice, merry chicken soup with rice.
To sip hot chicken soup with rice.
Slipping once, sipping twice, sipping chicken soup with rice.
In February it will be my snowman’s anniversary,
With cake for him and soup for me!
Happy once, happy twice, happy chicken soup with rice.
In March the wind blows down the door and spill my soup upon the floor.
It laps it up and roars for more.
Blowing once, blowing twice, blowing chicken soup with rice.
In April I will go away, to far-off Spain or old Bombay, And dream about hot soup all day.
Oh my once, oh my twice, oh my chicken soup with rice.
In May I truly think it best to be a robin lightly dressed, Concocting soup inside my nest.
Mix it once, mix it twice, mix that chicken soup with rice.
In June I saw a charming group of roses all begin to droop. I pepped them up with chicken soup!
Sprinkle once, sprinkle twice, sprinkle chicken soup with rice.
In July I’ll take a peep into the cool and fishy deep, Where chicken soup is selling cheap,
Selling once, selling twice, selling chicken soup with rice.
In August it will be so hot, I will become a cooking pot. Cooking soup of course. Why not?
Cooking once, cooking twice, cooking chicken soup with rice.
In September for a while, I will ride a crocodile Down the chicken soupy Nile.
Paddle once, paddle twice, paddle chicken soup with rice
In October I’ll host to witches, goblins, and a ghost. I’ll serve them chicken soup on toast.
Whoopy once, whoopy twice, whoopy chicken soup with rice.
In November’s gusty gale I will flop my flippy tail. And spout hot soup. I’ll be a whale!
Spouting once, spouting twice, spouting chicken soup with rice.
In December I will be a baubled, baubled Christmas tree With soup bowls draped all over me.
Merry once, merry twice, merry chicken soup with rice.
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