T'was the night before ......

T'was the night before Christmas,

or maybe it twasn't,

For it's bearing on this story,

matter it doesn't!

 

For each family reunion,

the gathering of the hoard,

There's just one thing,

that gets my gourd!

 

The Warden cleans the house

inside and out,

Until everything is spotless

there is no doubt!

 

"Why?" I ask

"You know it won't last!"

"Don't you remember,

what happened in the past?"

 

"Quite your complaining

and grab a broom"

"When your done there,

there's one more room!"

 

And if that isn't enough,

we must feed the brood.

To feed that bunch,

takes a ton of food!

 

A side of beef,

an acre of potatoes.

And don't forget,

a bushel of tomatoes!

 

Two days of cooking,

the Warden finally sighs,

But keeps watching me,

with wary eyes.

 

"Get your finger out of there,

that's for tomorrow!"

So I hang my head,

and walk away in sorrow.

 

The day finally comes,

with all it's clatter,

The saying of grace,

and passing the platter.

 

Glasses turn over,

spilling to the floor.

Even mashed potatoes

are found stuck to the door.

 

Dinner now over,

nothing left to devour,

Plates licked clean

not even enough to sour!

 

Then like a tornado,

a storm that looms,

The devastation now spreads

to the other rooms.

 

Bristle blocks, toy trucks,

dolls and so much more,

These are found strewn

all over the floor.

 

Naps are attempted,

but never attained.

It would be simpler,

to keep an atomic blast contained.

 

The aroma from the kitchen,

the Wardens cornbread and stew,

Now replaced by the smell

of diapers and hinny wipes too.

 

The day finally ends,

the mayhem completed.

We stand at the backdoor,

hugs, kisses and I love you's repeated.

 

I extend my hand

and give a last wave,

Wondering in my mind

if the house we can save.

 

The Warden gives a wink,

and I can read her mind,

For she and I

are of a similar kind.

 

Here I must brag,

I must be bold,

We wouldn't trade that day,

for all the world's gold.

Dennis