Twas the week before Christmas

Twas the week before Christmas
And all through the house
Not much was misplaced
except maybe my blouse.. (I'm always misplacing things these days)

The stockings were hung
by the "fake" chimney with care
In hopes that my kids
Might fill mine this year

My Leroy was snuggled
All warm in his bed
Dreams of clay pigeons
All 25 dead!

And I in my recliner
and he beneath sheets
Were all settled in
Despite noise by the street

When out in the yard
Something big began howling
I knew we'd had supper
Our tummies weren't growling

Then the patio doors
in the bedroom flew open
Not exactly the action
For which Lee been hopin'

Looked out in the woodlands
and what did I see
leaves that were blowing
And fake deer near the tree

The moon on the breast
of not one lick of snow
If we don't get some soon
This Christmas will blow!

I returned to my bed
on the breeziest of nights
And hoped that the wind
would rip down those damn lights

I dreamed that my yard
would become one of beauty
As Jessie had labored and
done double duty

A house should be festive
With lights of ONE color
Not look like who lived there
Was named Helen Keller.

When I woke to the sun
shining in my front door
My wish had been granted
The lights shone no more

Some said they were pretty
I thought they were gross
Next year will be better
LED's will be toast.

"Simple is better"
Is what Leroy said
So twenty & twelve
may have lights just of red.

He likes the colors
And I prefer white
We'll have 48 weeks
to work through the fight.

No matter what happens
It all will be fine
Our EIEIO landscape
Will surely all shine!