|'Twas the week around Christmas, and all through the house|
Not a creature was drooling, least not on a blouse;
|The bright boy was nestled all snug in his bed;|
|While visions of stocking-stuff danced in his head;|
|And Mommy in her earrings,|
|And I, too, madcap,|
|Had just settled our buns for a spell to unwrap,|
|When out from the kitchen arranged on a platter,|
We sprang from our seats for good eats—pitter-patter.
|When what to my grumbling stomach did sound,|
But a miniature laugh from this face jolly round,
|With little left of our meals, once juicy and thick,|
To the waiting presents we returned right quick.
|More rapid our heartbeats with presents became,|
|And we pointed,|
|and called them by name:|
|On carpet, a Cutie!|
|And nice men!|
|A bit fussy and plump, a right jolly wee elf,|
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
|He spoke not a word, sitting straight on his tail,|
And filled his wee diaper; then let out a wail.
To the top of our knees! To the edge of the wall!
(Now, where to begin!?) Merry Christmas to all!