Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Night After Christmas

As usual I have a festive rhyme for you. If no one is offended then I haven't done my job. And thanks as ever to Graeme Base for writing the more rhythmical bits.
 
'Twas the night after Christmas
And sleepiness fell.
They'd finished the turkey,
The pudding as well


They'd opened their crackers,
The riddles they'd told
(And none of them less
Than a century old).

They'd worn paper hats
For a moment or two
Till even Gran found it
A lame thing to do.

The presents were opened,
The mess cleared away,
Now everyone slumbered,
Recalling the day . . .


Paul got a video game
He thought neat,
(The one where you murder
Each person you meet.)


But Mum said, 'It's awful!
'I won't let you play.
'I don't care if Dad
Has been playing all day.'

 
And David got DVD movies,
Although
He'd downloaded all of them
Ages ago.

Old Gran gave out books
And a chemistry set.
(All going on eBay
Next week, you can bet.)


And then there was Courtney
Who cried, the poor soul -
For Santa had brought her
The wrong kind of doll.

'I wanted a dolly
That wets when it's pressed
Bit this one won't wee
And I'm deeply distressed.'

'But this doll is lovely,'
Said Mummy to daughter.
'I think they've stopped making
Those dolls that pass water.'

And Courtney kept squeezing
But nothing came out.
The doll wouldn't pee.
It was airtight. No doubt.

She squeezed and squeezed harder,
With all of her might
Till dolly exploded -
A terrible sight!

The head popped right off
Looking spooky and scary.
And bounced off the Christmas tree,
Killing a fairy.



It rocketed round
And finally fell
Right into the fireplace
(It burned rather well).


The plastic was melted,
The room filled with smoke
Mum said, 'Let's sing carols!'
And tried not to choke

But Courtney kept crying
And cursing the elf
That brought the wrong dolly,
She soon wet herself.


Her two darling brothers,
Young David and Paul,
Were laughing like mad
At the thrill of it all.

But Courtney was livid
And growled at the pair,
'I hope that next Christmas
You're killed by a bear!'

Her mother suggested
She might want to go
And put on new undies.
But Courtney said, 'No!'

She glared at her dolly's head,
Melted to goo,
And into the fireplace
Her panties she threw!


And what happened next
Made the family flee -
A cloud of burnt plastic
And panties and pee.

And two hours later
The household returned
To witness where dolly
And undies were burned.

The boys looked at Mother.
'We don't understand.
'Is this part of Christmas?
Is this what God planned?'

'I'm sure that it isn't,'
Their mother intoned.
'Now let's tidy up!'
She looked round and groaned.

The soot and the cinders,
The stains and the wet -
The night after Christmas
Was not over yet.

'Next Christmas,' she said,
'We'll avoid all this stuff-
The presents ... the pudding ...
The turkey... Enough!

'From now on, each dollar
Goes straight to the poor,
We'll give it to charity -
They need it more.'



'Hooray!' they all cried.
Not a soul disagreed.
A household united
In good over greed.

And so the day finished,
With goodwill and cheer…
And who knows? They might even
Do it next year.

But just for the moment,
The presents seemed nice
And thoughts of the poor
Disappeared in a trice.

And Courtney was just as
Amazed as can be
To find in her bed
A doll that could pee.







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