Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Everyone was scurrying about like a mouse.
Amid shouts of “Keep Out!”, “Don’t Look!”, and “Go Away!”
Came the distinctive sounds of paper ripping, tape stretching, and the cry
of oh for the love of Pete, will the glue please dry!
Cries of Where’s the scissors? Where’s the ruler? Where’s the aspirin?
and Where did I put that box? add to the din.
I swore it would not be so this year,
Never again try to make clever gifts the day before for those so dear,
Yet, again here we both are crafting away when the deadline is so near.
At least this year there won’t be a gift of raw supplies
With the promise that most applies,
I meant to make it for you, I really mean it true,
But Christmas came upon me out of the blue.
So, while children are asleep in their beds,
It will be getting glue to dry the thought foremost in my head
And the hope that next Christmas I will plan ahead.
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