15 Dec T’was the night before Christmas …
T’was the night before Christmas and the house was a tip,
Then the wrappings and ribbons caused me to trip.
The dog thought it a game, and joined in the fun,
Bouncing and pouncing, and having a run.
Up went the baubles, down went the tree,
Lights in a tangle, and tinsel on me.
She played with the presents, the wrappings were torn,
I lay in a heap, feeling very forlorn.
In the background some laughter as P-i-C saw,
The mess everywhere, and me on the floor.
My Santa hat had fallen down over my eyes,
There were crumbs everywhere from the squashed Christmas pies.
I glared up at him, from my place on the floor,
As he bent nearly double, with his laughter a roar.
The dog grinned as well, thinking she was the star,
The most helpful elf on that evening by far.
I closed my eyes, hoping for Santa’s arrival,
To clean up the mess, and aid my survival.
Alas, he was busy and no help to me,
Typical male! He just let it be.
I rolled to me knees, my bum in the air,
Head down on the floor, I didn’t really care.
My Christmas spirit was broken, and before I could think,
I crawled to the bar; I really needed a drink.
Whisky or Rum, Vodka or Brandy?
Who gives a damn, whatever was handy!
I opened a bottle, and took a big swig,
Gave a huge sigh, not caring a fig.
P-i-C was still laughing, the dog licked my face,
I slothed on the floor, without any grace.
I first drank one bottle, and another I sought,
Not caring to wrap the presents I’d bought.
To hell with Santa, the gifts and the tree,
I’d re-found my spirit; in a bottle it’d be.
All was fine, and all was right.
Messy Shrissmis shoo all, and shoo all a good … zzzzz
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