‘Twas The Night Before Christmas – New Forty Style

In honor of Christmas Eve, today I add my own twist (or twisted point of view – however you want to put it) to Clement Clark Moore’s classic poem A Visit From St. Nicholas – more commonly known as Twas the Night Before Christmas.

You see, even those of us in the new forty still hope that certain things will show up under our tree on Christmas morning.  Of course, you have to believe in Santa if you want to get what you are hoping for…and you also have to stay off the naughty list for a whole year (it is easier said than done my friends).

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas – New Forty Style

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was sleeping, not even a mouse.
You see Mama was blastin’ her music without care,
And dancin’ around the house like  a crazy woman in her underwear.

The eleven year old was with her dad for the night,
So Mama had time to make everything just right.
With a whole lotta’ energy and a shakin’ booty
Mama gyrated her way through her holiday duties.

She tidied up the presents and admired the tree,
While bustin’ a move to the Black Eyed Peas.
But her merriment was disrupted and her gaze was averted,
When she heard a loud noise and an obscenity blurted.

She ran to the glass door to investigate the ruckus,
And outside she saw a big man the size of Dick Butkus.
It appeared that his sled pulled by a bevy of reindeer,
Had taken a wrong turn and made a landing in Mama’s yard – the frozen frontier.

Even with all of this activity Mama was not taken aback,
She did take a moment though to use a robe to cover the clothes that she lacked.
She studied the big man all dressed in red and accessorized well,
And knew right then and there that the night was going to turn out swell.

After all, she had always been a fan of men in red bearing gifts,
And there he was trying to dig his reindeer out of her snow drifts.
So Mama put on her best welcoming smile,
And invited the nice man in for awhile.

Mama said, “Take off your coat, your hat, your gloves”,
My friends gave me some Bailey’s Irish Cream that I think you’ll just love.
And then Mama saw it – a flash of bright gold,
A wedding ring – all sparkly, and solid and bold.

It was clear that this jolly man while bringing unexpected cheer into her life,
Somewhere had a very lucky and inextricable wife.
Well Mama may be naughty many a day,
But with married men she never does play.

So Mama deescalated her plan of attack,
She covered up all her assets and put the Baileys bottle back.
She offered instead a mug of hot cocoa,
And queried what the dashing gentleman was doing in West Fargo.

He smiled broadly, his eyes they twinkled,
He let out a chuckle and his nose he wrinkled.
And even though this man had hair of white,
Mama couldn’t help but note that he was damn sexy in his own right.

He said, “I am here to deliver Christmas cheer,
“I have quite a few gifts to deliver ’round here.”
“Ah, Christmas cheer”, Mama said as it hit her,
“I know you now – I thought you looked familiar.”

At that point Mama noticed that his pants started to quiver,
As he pulled out his cell phone he asked her, “Do you follow me on Twitter?”
He said, “You can find me at OlNickBJolly”,
Mama said, “Seriously…who has time for such folly?”

As Mama watched she thought him to be spry for a man of his age,
He used those thumbs with the skill of a sage.
Mama just gazed at his dexterity and got a bit lost in thought,
All the good ones are taken she mused – too bad, cause this Santa dude is hot.

He texted and tweeted and jumped up with a start,
Saying, “I’ve got to get going – I think I’m illegally parked.”
“My night’s far from over and I’ve much more to do”,
“I’ll have to jump back on my sleigh and bid you adieu.”

And with that he was on his way,
Mama didn’t even have time for a good-bye to say.
But as she went back to her evening tasks with glee,
She noticed a note had been left by the tree.

It was folded precisely and hand-penned with care,
It was from the sweet gentleman who just had been there.
It said, “Thank you for the cocoa and holiday cheer,
If you promise to be nice I’ll bring you George Clooney like you wished for – next year.”

And with that Mama made a solemn promise,
To live her next year with a premium on goodness.
She believes in the power of Santa you see,
And she desperately wants to wake up to George Clooney under the tree.

Enjoy Christmas Eve!!!!  😉

Day five hundred and thirty-six of the new forty – obla di obla da

Ms. C

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”