Twas' the day after
Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.
When all at once, there arose such a clatter and noise,
Oh my! It's the grandchildren with all their toys.
They're all hyped up on too many sugar plums,
Sweet Jesus, today, don't let me be all thumbs.
"I hate these skates." she wailed, I can't make them work.
"I'm slipping, I'm falling, they make me feel like a jerk!"
"Papa!" "Papa!" He mourned, the 'mote on my tractor is broke,
"I know," Grampa complained, "These toys are a joke."
"Gramma thought, "On Blitzer, On Prancer, or whoever,"
And don't come back for another year, Or whenever!" |