T’was the Week Before Christmas
T’was the week before Christmas and all through the house,
There were boxes and papers all scattered about;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
If I don’t get to Target they will remain bare;
No one is nestled all snug in their beds,
While thousands of sugar cookies dance in my head;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I ran from my wrapping to see what was the matter;
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid day to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature herd of eight neighborhood deer!
I looked about, filling with gloom,
I knew in a moment my shrubbery was doomed.
I whistled and shouted and called them all names,
I would tell you what I said, but I’m a bit ashamed.
They ran past the porch and over the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
There came from the kitchen a horrible sound.
The smoke alarm blaring, the cookies well done,
And I was wondering, Where is my son?
He was in the game room flung flat on his back,
He looked like someone stretched on a rack;
His eyes were glazed over, the PS3 blaring,
I looked at his clothes and asked, What are you wearing?
He gave me the look that I’ve gotten to know,
The room turned so cold I thought it would snow!
With the rest of a cookie held tight in his teeth,
I threw up my hands and accepted defeat.
I closed my eyes, and thought of an elf,
I laughed at the thought, in spite of myself.
I walked to the great room and looked at the tree,
It had a few decorations, maybe three.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
This was a job I really can’t sherk.
I’ve got a few days to make everything right,
So Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good-night!
My apologies to Clement Moore