By Trent Rosser
'Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
Everyone was snoring, especially the spouse
Torn wrapping paper and boxes throughout the living room
I couldn't help but look at it all with gloom.
Everyone was happy, this Christmas they received what they wanted,
I looked at the mess to clean, I could swear I was being taunted.
I sat in the recliner, with my head in my hands,
And daydream of a warm summer day in a far distant land.
When suddenly on the front porch I heard such a crash,
I knew it was ole Saint Nick bringing the rest of my stash.
So with my new jean and boots, I ran to the front door,
But it was locked and getting it open was such a chore.
I jumped off the porch, full of brass,
I immediately hit ice and fell on my....... backside.
Flat on my back looking up at the snow,
I didn’t see Santa, only decorations alit with a glow.
The decorations were broken and in a heap,
The wind destroyed them, I began to weep.
No Santa, No gifts waiting for me outside,
Just a bunch of snow, yeah, the weatherman lied!
It was supposed to be nice, a warm winter's day
Instead I am laying in the snow, God I wish it was May
I get back to my feet, to try to clear the debris
And try to untangle the lights from the tall pine tree.
I give up, it is supposed to be Christmas vacation
Walk back the house and it is a new frustration.
The dogs are awake, and looking guilty again,
They got into the leftovers, you could tell by their grin.
I clear a path from the paper and boxes
Everyone is still snoring, it's starting to get obnoxious.
I start playing with toys, that was meant for the grandson,
They didn’t have toys like this when I was young.
The spouse wakes up, and walks into the disaster.
I remind her that yesterday it was filled with laughter.
She wants to go out to eat, she will get dressed and we can go,
“Sorry Honey, We have 12 inches of snow!”
She gives me that look, the one that puts fear in all men,
I break out the boots and prepare to go out again.
I clear a path to the car as she is getting dressed,
They say that fresh snow is pretty, I'm NOT impressed.
The traffic was horrible, I'm thankful were still alive,
Just because you have a 4x4, don’t mean you can drive.
Slipping and sliding down the busy road,
Cars wrecking everywhere just because it snowed.
Looking forward to a steaming hot meal,
We find a small restaurant that shows a lot of appeal.
We get out of the car, that itself was a stunt,
“Closed for Christmas” was plaster across the front.
We settle for chips at the local convenience store,
And make our way back home, before we could add to this lore.
The dogs are happy, bellies are full,
The house is still trashed, and I can’t find my new tool.
We sit and relax looking at the mess,
Christmas was a hit, that I must confess.
We will clean house tomorrow, the trash can wait
The boxes we will save for next year's fate.
As I sit on the recliner, with my wife by my side,
I realize that this day, is one of the best in my eyes.
So I slipped and fell, the dogs ate my food,
The destroyed decorations put me in a very foul mood.
Then my wife sits on my lap and gives a little peck on the cheek.
She leans into my ear and slowly starts to speak.
“Merry Christmas Santa,” She was praising
“You did great, but this year you were amazing.”
I realized that it wasn't the gifts that mattered,
It was the loved of friends and family, I was flattered.
I was the luckiest man alive, and I still think that way,
Until she said, “Christmas is only 364 more days.
Rosser/Provided