Marcil: A Christmas angel
'Twas the morning of Christmas and all through my house,Not a parent was stirring, nor a couple of babies, a preteen and two millennials.The tree was stripped clear of all decorations,From two-and-a-half feet down, the tree made us frown.The coff...
'Twas the morning of Christmas and all through my house,
Not a parent was stirring, nor a couple of babies, a preteen and two millennials.
The tree was stripped clear of all decorations,
From two-and-a-half feet down, the tree made us frown.
The coffee tables were stripped bare of cups and vases and anything at all,
For the 16-month-old baby tore everything down.
He smashed on the hardwood, crushed on the carpet,
He seemed to hate the decorations and everything else he could touch.
He is my fourth child, you see, what a wonderful soul,
They say he will keep me young, but the prediction is getting old.
For he weighs 35 pounds and he is barely 1,
My back and legs are no longer young.
Then I woke from my bed to hear such a clatter,
The baby was downstairs throwing everything that mattered.
Tupperware, flatware, spoons and forks,
Including the Christmas pork.
Pots and pans, newspapers and magazines,
This baby is wild, he should live in a zoo.
I ran down the stairs to see what was the matter,
Through the haze of the lights I could see what he did with all his might.
Legos and toys all stuck to my feet,
It seemed we should have taught him to clean, which would have been neat.
Dangit, Darnit, Holy cow and Holy Jesus,
From the stairs to the couch, in the kitchen and in the den,
Our baby has even gotten in the fridge with the fruit.
But then, from the corner of my eye, I saw this Jolly 'lil elf.
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples so merry.
His cheeks were like cherries?
Wait, he had gotten into the fridge and smeared jelly all over his face,
It's not cherry, it seems to be berry.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
Pulled off his stockings and jammie bottoms, too.
I was surprised to see in a moment of pose.
A laying a finger inside his nose,
He pulled out a lego which I am sure had some mold.
He sprang to the couch and snuggled in like a baby,
How could I be angry? How could I feel pain?
For he is my Christmas angel, that I cherish and love.
Dash away, Dash away cuts on my feet,
This little guy is a treat. Full apologies to Clement C. Moore.
I hope and pray everyone has a wonderful Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays and an awesome Festivas.
Marcil is publisher of The Forum and president and CEO of Forum Communications Company.