Dear Readers,

“T’was the night before Christmas” is a very long poem.

This is especially true when you think it’d be faster to do a parody of that poem instead of working and working to write something original. You’ll find yourself working just as hard, if not harder, to write that parody. And you’ll want to give up about half-way through only to realize that you’re too far in to quit now.

Ha. Perhaps that is why the message in the parody doesn’t quite mirror my usual post. But it’s all in good fun, I assure you…

T’was The Week Before Christmas

T’was the week before Christmas and all through the village,
Everyone was stressing and starting to pillage.
The local biz-owners tried not to care
That citizens were grumpy with vim and with flair.

See, money was nestled all snug in their hands;
So vendors awaited each woman and man.
With kids in their car seats, and I in mine, too,
We headed Downtown with our list, Yeehoo!

When out in the street there arose such a clatter,
I laid on my horn to see what was the matter.
Away down a side street I turned like a flash,
To avoid getting into a holiday crash.

The sun in my eyes, while it rained and it snowed,
Made me hustle indoors with my kiddies in tow.
When, what to my half-blinded eyes should appear,
But a guy on a bike shouting swears– that was clear.

But why was he shouting? What was the trick?
“You knew you were cutting me off, you’re not thick!”
More rapid than eagles, his cursing, it came,
And he flipped me the bird while he called me these names:

For the sake of the children I shall not repeat them.
But suffice it to say — we’re not going to be friends.
My eldest asked Mommy, “Ma what’d he mean?”
And the youngest repeated the gesture obscene.

As we left the toy store with some bags and a sigh,
I decided that it wasn’t my fault, t’was that guy’s.
Down the street we walked with more shopping to do,
While cars honked and others stopped being nice. Boo!

And then, with a twinkling, we opened a door–
And we were accosted with meanness once more!
As I sucked in my breath and was turning around,
A little old lady pushed me to the ground!

She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her feet,
But her disposition was not happy OR sweet.
A bundle of bags she had in her hand,
And she said “Hurry up! Move over! Don’t stand

Right in the doorway! Move along! Now scoot!”
And I knew nothing I could do for this old coot.
Her mean mouth was pinched in a permanent frown.
(I took joy in the long nose hairs that fell down

And tickled her moustache, which covered her teeth.
And those teeth! Oh those teeth! Oh, those terrible teeth!
She had a broad nose and a rather large belly,
That shook when she moaned, like a bowl full of jelly!)

She was clearly impressed with her important self,
So I laughed when she said that, cantankerous elf.
With a huff and snort and a twist of her head,
She pushed on by me and away that jerk sped.

I said not a word, but went straight to work,
And crossed off the names on my wish list of quirks.
And laying my Visa in the debit machine,
I accepted the purchase– made the vendor’s eye’s gleam.

We walked back to the car, and spotted the ticket.
Out of time was my meter? That Reader can stick it!
I’m sure he heard me exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas, my foot! Meter Reader, let’s fight!”

—

Merry Christmas, my friends. May your shopping trips be closer to the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, than the beginning. I hope you don’t meet The Grinch and that you do, indeed, get your Red Rider carbine-action two-hundred shot range model air rifle. And that you don’t shoot your eye out.

May your stocking be filled with your favourite coffee blend and big, steel bucket in which to make it.

Love,
Does Coffee Come In Bucket Size
(aka Elizabeth)