'Twas the Morning of Christmas Eve Day

With Mommy in the kitchen and Daddy at the lap (top),
The child settled in with a yelp and a clap!

What are you doing? she asked, sly as a fox.
Making pumpkin muffins, straight out of the box!

A box, you question, your eyes full of fright.
But the taste and the flavor was exceptionally light.

Muffins for breakfast, not one, two, but three.
Can we leave one for Santa when he comes to our tree?

For Santa? A muffin? Really? I said.
But of course, said the child, digging into the bread.

And cookies, too, with gingerbread lumps.
That we decorated yesterday, with fresh icing bumps.

Can we make more today? asked the child with glee.
But of course we can, honey, said the quite tired me.

And the errands we ran, as the morning progressed,
Then we came home to eat and to get a little rest.

And Daddy ran out, back to the store,
For stockings must be stuffed and that we can't ignore.

For tonight is Christmas Eve, and with the blessing of being a Jew
Daddy is in charge, not me and not you!

Of course somehow I end up being gift wrapper extraordinaire.
And shopper, and baker, and whatever I dare.

To myself I count the hours til you crawl into bed,
With visions of Santa Claus dancing in your head.
And I'll say to myself, Hey, what do you think?
And my answer shall be - my G-d, I need a drink!

So to all out there celebrating Christmas today,
Where the parents play Santa and kids hide away,
I suggest you pretend to hear Santa's sled,
So that your children shall hurry to bed,

And then as their eyes roll into their heads,
You can break into your own stash of cookies and bread!

And once you do that, well, what else do you think?
You should all pour YOURSELVES something to drink!

Cheers to all and a Merry Christmas!

And yadda yadda yadda ...

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