A Post Christmas Poem

‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,

The only creature that was stirring was my computer mouse.

The children were all busy with their brand new toys,

Not fighting or behaving like bad girls and boys.

The little one built Legos all by herself,

While the big one played video games like a good little elf.

I thought to myself, “This is too good to be true,”

“Maybe they’re both coming down with the flu?”

No objects were broken or needed return,

No clothes so hideous that I wanted to burn.

It would be the very first year I didn’t schlep to the store,

To return a gift or two….or a hundred and four.

Thrilled with the prospect of staying home all day,

I put on my sweats and on the couch I prepared to lay.

As I dozed off to sleep I felt a terrifying jolt,

And sat up from the couch with a heck of a bolt.

I cracked open my eyes and who should be there,

But my lovely dear children who were starting to stare.

“Hello Mommy dearest,” they cooed in unison,

And I immediately knew the pain I was going to be in.

Their words were benign but I feared their tone,

“What do you want?” I asked with a groan.

They waved their gift cards that were fanned in their hand,

And then they each grabbed an arm to help me to stand.

“Let’s go to the mall!” the kids cried with glee.

“You don’t have to spend any money! It all will be free!”

“Like hell!” I shouted, in the air went my fist.

If I had to leave the house, I was gonna be pissed.

They begged and they pleaded,

And cried till they got overheated.

As they wailed, I shook my head with disgust,

Why should my lounging today be a bust?

“No!” I shouted with a frown on my face.

“Why must spending gift cards always be like a race?”

“Two months from now you will surely whine and cry,

When you want something that you have no money to buy.”

“But we want these shoes, book or a game!”

It doesn’t matter what it is, it’s always the same.

They get those gift cards in their greedy little hands,

And out the window goes Mommy’s relaxing plans.

With annoyance I grumbled as I tugged on my boots,

And glowered at the children who were now in cahoots.

“Let’s go you little brats,” I growled with distain,

Going to the mall today would be a major pain.

Five million people either on line to return,

Or those like my darlings, with money just dying to burn.

Off to the mall we shall go and bid goodbye to my couch,

My kids may drag me there, but they can’t make me not be a grouch.

 

Kindle or Amazon cards burning a hole in your pocket this weekend??? Use them to pick up your copy of “The 8 Mistakes of Amy Maxwell”…only 99 cents for Kindle until Monday or paperback for just $11!

 

http://www.amazon.com/The-Mistakes-Maxwell-Series-Book-ebook/dp/B00NOFDA8W

 

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