*Disclaimer: I did not write this. I found it online.
Twas the Night Before Christmas (Parent Style)
Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the house
I searched for the tools
to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied
and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage
“Some Assembly Required.”
The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie’s townhouse to boot!
And now, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes,
my heart skipped a beat—
let no parts be missing
or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can’t get it right, it goes straight to the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.
“Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand.”
“Honey,” said hubby, “you just glued my hand.”
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
with “assembly required” till morning’s first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went blurry; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
“This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we’ll cheer, let the holiday ring,
and not run to the store for one single thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
for the perfect, most magical, Christmas, I bet!”
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I gratefully went, though I suppose
there’s something to say for those self-deluded—
I’d forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!
Twas the Night Before Christmas (Mom Style)
Twas the night before Christmas, when all thru the abode
Only one creature was stirring, & she was cleaning the commode.
The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
while visions of N-64 & Barbie, flipped through their heads.
The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
with a half-constructed bicycle propped on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
which made her sigh, “Now what is the matter?”
With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, & saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes & soot, which fell with a shrug,
“Oh great,” muttered the mom, “Now I have to clean the rug.”
“Ho Ho Ho!” cried Santa, “I’m glad you’re awake.”
“Your gift was especially difficult to make.”
“Thanks, Santa, but all I want is time alone.”
“Exactly!” he chuckled, “So, I’ve made you a clone.”
“A clone?” she muttered, “What good is that?”
“Run along, Santa, I’ve no time for chit chat.”
Then out walked the clone – The mother’s twin,
Same hair, same eyes, same double chin.
“She’ll cook, she’ll dust, she’ll mop every mess.
You’ll relax, take it easy, watch The Young & The Restless.”
“Fantastic!” the mom cheered. “My dream has come true!”
“I’ll shop, I’ll read, I’ll sleep a night through!”
From the room above, the youngest did fret.
“Mommy?! Come quickly, I’m scared & I’m wet.”
The clone replied, “I’m coming, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” the mom smiled, “She sure knows her part.”
The clone changed the small one & hummed her tune,
as she bundled the child in a blanket cocoon.
“You’re the best mommy ever. I really love you.”
The clone smiled & sighed, “And I love you, too.”
The mom frowned & said, “Sorry, Santa, no deal.”
That’s my child’s LOVE she is trying to steal.”
Smiling wisely Santa said, “To me it is clear,
Only one loving mother is needed here.”
The mom kissed her child & tucked her in bed.
“Thank You, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won’t be very long,
when they’ll be too old for my cradle & song.”
The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, “It works every time.”
With the clone by his side Santa said “Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, dear Mom, You will be all right.”
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