December 24, 2009
It’s the night before Christmas. The house is a sight.
Both parents are toiling, the staff’s off tonight.
No stockings are hung by the chimney with care,
a mouse in the attic ate through them last year.
Till Lauren is nestled all snug in her bed,
I will not be able to lay down my head.
I now check my list with a yawn and a moan.
I have much left to do, so I note with a groan.
Then out in the yard I hear something shatter,
A spiral tree fell is what is the matter.
Away to the window I fly like a flash,
pull open the blinds and another goes CRASH.
The drifts on the lawn all adorned with moonglow
show the remnants of light bulbs a glint on the snow.
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear,
the remaining survivors, two glowing fake deer.
With a little “Oh well.”, I go back in quick
before my nose freezes or I could get sick.
Just then I remember, I am solely to blame.
I didn’t buy diapers! Though that was my aim
when I stopped for the milk and the eggs at the store.
But my mind was elsewhere. I had wanted to roar
when that man took our spot, last handicap space.
Then he ran in the store, it was a disgrace.
We parked in Siberia on the store’s side.
Then windblown and cold we made it inside.
With long-legged stride I’d moved pretty quick
and the ramp on the van, thank God, didn’t stick.
The aisles so crowded were hard to get through.
A horn on the wheelchair would’ve helped us pursue
that green bag of diapers that we left behind
as we swerved and avoided our fellow mankind.
But back to the present, how it makes me blue,
there’s cooking and wrapping and laundry to do.
A shower for Lauren and quick dry her hair,
then lay out her clothes, something festive to wear.
Christmas Day is tomorrow. A party is planned.
There’ll be ribbon and paper where ever you stand.
I give her a snack and put her to bed.
Go to sleep, have sweet dreams, please lay down your head.
I speak no more words but get right back on task.
A thought crossed my mind. What more could I ask?
That maybe St. Nick will surprise me come morning
and along with those gifts ‘neath the tree without warning,
will be the green bag that I didn’t remember
and maybe some extra days for December!
So I could catch up on those things left undone,
and maybe, oh could there be, time for some fun?
He could bring us new stockings, a horn for her chair.
It would be funny, how people would stare!
Then rubbing my eyes while shaking my head,
I wondered, oh will I, tonight get to bed?
A jingle a jangle, could Santa be near?
No, it is not Santa, it's Lauren I hear.
I know if she could as I turn off her light,
she’d say Merry Christmas to all and good night.
Based on the original Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore.