'Twas the night before Christmas would trash up the house. Who's gonna be Santa? Me or the spouse?
Our kidlet was playing possum you see -hoping to glimpse the Big Guy (and not me!)
When out by the pool there arose such a splash, (it turns out the reindeer had been at the mash)
With a camera and towel I rushed right outside. 'Swim, Santa, swim', my Forrest-self cried
No way was the old guy gonna croak on my watch, cuz that would sure turn down the cheer a huge notch!
Now it took a good while to de-drench the old elf. Thank goodness I had a spare suit on the shelf
Shaking and shivering and weak in the knee, he tripped on a gift and knocked down our tree!
I said not a word, (my southern roots run deep) not a sigh, not a frown, not one single peep.
Gathering himself, all red in the face, he thanked me profusely and dashed from our place
Too late I realized I'd gotten no proof! Who'd ever believe such a Santa sized goof?
And who'd clean up the mess that he'd left behind? A merry maid at midnight would be hard to find...
I consoled myself with an 'Oh,what the heck' - how often does Santa drip on your deck?!?
Then we heard him exclaim as he rose over the wall 'Giddy up, Rudolph and Merry Christmas, y'all'.
Posted with Blogsy
No comments:
Post a Comment