T’was the morning of Christmas (or maybe t’was not,
(Depends on what brand of religion you’ve got.
(Or none if you wish, but you still like a tree,
(Or a wreath or a candle, what e’er it might be). (More)

The point is, you’re happy at home with the kids
(Unless you’ve no children, or maybe you did,
(But they’ve grown up and moved out and flights were delayed,
(And they’re stuck at an airport, on suitcases laid).

But pretend they’re all there (if you had them, that is,
(And it’s fine if you didn’t; they make your hair frizz
(And go grey with the worry and don’t get me wrong,
(I like kids – yes really! – just not for too long)

(And that’s not right either; I do like them still,
(But we all need a break from their arounding-mill.
(And yes that’s all backward but this has to rhyme,
(I’d explain how it works but I don’t have the time)

(Coz it’s Christmas and presents and giggles and fun,
(As Regis, his guirrelfriend, and both the twins run,
(Up and down Árbol Squirrel with their nuts and their seeds,
(And nary a thought for my poetic needs).

Still, back to our warm ode of holiday cheer,
With carols and stockings and tiny reindeer,
(Not real ones, of course, as their moms they would miss
(And stand there all nervous and then start to —

(“Be family friendly,” I say to myself
(And return to this tale of a jolly old elf
(Who’s not even here, but he stopped in last night
(For a break in the midst of his round-the-world flight.)

(He brought me some nuts coz he said I’d been nice.
(I’m sure they’ll taste good once I chip off the ice.
(“It’s an altitude thing,” he explained with a shrug,
(I thanked him and swept reindeer poop off the rug.)

(Yes, we do have a rug on our second-floor branch,
(I cleaned it up quickly, lest Mrs. Squirrel blanch,
(And think I’d indulged in the eggnog again.
(I’ve sworn off the stuff and much better I’ve been.)

Where was I? Oh yes! Christmas morning and gifts,
Like that iHazPhone 6 (and no, I’m not miffed
(That I didn’t get one, no, I’m not a bit blue.
(It’s those twinkling lights; I’m reflecting their hue.)

But regardless, your little one’s downloading apps,
And texting you “THANKS!” in those bright, bold all-caps.
So easy to see on that ginormous screen
(You might want to cover it when you’re between)

(Those texts and Sudoku and what else this morn,
(And you pop in to look at some internet —
(“Keep it family friendly!” I mutter once more,
(And find my way back to our holiday lore).

And aww, that new toy resting there ‘neath the tree,
I’m sure it will work with a new battery.
But as for those words “Some Assembly Required,”
There must be a teen who would love to be hired,

To tinker and read and then stop and restart,
And finally say “Well, it’s missing a part.”
(Ooh! Lost in the midst of my sub rosa curses,
(The beats of this opus are transcending verses!)

You thumb through your new phone and Google for help,
One-point-three million hits and the first one says “Welp,
“I got a replacement online. It was free,
“Except for the shipping and handling fee.

“When I added that part, it assembled just fine.
“There’s even a YouTube tutorial online!”
So you thumb and you scroll and you mutter and hiss
As a six-year-old girl says “It’s easy! Like this!”

She puts it together in four minutes flat,
And you turn to the teen and say “I can do that!”
“Well you could,” she replies, “if that part weren’t missing.”
So it’s back to the scrolling and mutt’ring and hissing.

And oops! That’s still up? “Oh, now those can’t be real,”
Says your Dear One, with eyes that could melt right through steel.
“Yours are better, my Sweetest,” you say with a smile,
As the look on her face says you’ve missed by a mile.

“There’s a privacy mode and you might want to set it,”
She says through tight lips, “and then hope I forget it.”
Like that ever happens; her mind’s a steel trap,
Into which you’ve now fallen. So much for that nap.

“Well, it’s Christmas,” she says, “and there’s no need to slouch.
“I’m sure you’ll be comfy tonight on the couch.”
(Now ask me again why I’m not too annoyed,
(That there wasn’t an iHazPhone 6 or a Droid)

(Under my Christmas tree, with the seeds and the berries,
(Macadamia crunch with a slight hint of cherries.
(I’m quite happy; I don’t need a fancy new phone.
(Especially if it means sleeping alone.)

Well, we’ve wandered afar on this bright Christmas morn,
From assembling toys off to internet —
So remember, this day comes but one time each year,
Here’s a package of poop from a flying reindeer.

(I’m joking! You’ll love it, no ifs and or buts,
(It’s some of my absolute favorite nuts.)
Merry Christmas, my friends, whether naughty or nice,
Macadamias to all … once you chip off the ice.


Good day and good nuts!