T'was the Week Before Christmas

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