'Twas the night before Christmas, when next to the sea
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Bee;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that her sugar daddy soon would be there;
The manboys were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of Bridget herself danced in their heads;
And Ben in his snuggie, and I in his lap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window we flew like big flashes,
Tore open the shutters and covered our asses.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to our wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he might not be a dick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Duncan! now, Samuel! now Lochlan and TJ!
On, Matthew! on, er...Batman! on Henry and PJ!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and our devil did 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 Diabhal came with a bound.
He was dressed all in glitter, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of cash 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 on 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 chiseled face and a washboard belly
That grew taut when he laughed, not at all like a bowl full of jelly.
He was cut and he was kind, 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 still regard him with dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned, like 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—
“Another year with us, Bridget, make sure you sleep with one eye open!”
(No but really, I like to poke him and he gives me money in return.)
Merry Christmas! My plan for 2026 is to return to writing every day. I have a lot to tell you.