Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my pad; I was trying my best to be the best Christmas dad. The morning, at best was a half dressed disaster, a flurry of last minute things to chase after. The children were giddy and anxious and rotten while plans were unplanned and some gifts were unboughten. Yet somehow we battled, fought through and prevailed, our tidings of Christmas time joy unassailed.

The sun then soon set and the sky became night which gave way to the glitter of Christmas time lights. We drove through that winter time magical glow to a Christmas eve party at Grandma’s abode. There were cookies and meatballs and egg nog to sip, there was trivial pursuit and seven layer bean dip. The kids were distracted by Christmas time fun and they unwrapped a present but only just one.

Then we finished the party in parently time, we were home in pajamas and chilling by nine. I put on a movie, twas Christmas vacation, my favorite perhaps for holiday elation. Then though they protested we put kids to bed and uncorked some red wine to unrattle our heads. The kids now asleep, or at least in position, watching Die Hard is our favorite Christmas Eve Tradition.

For whether you’re settled in Wyoming or Gaza, it ain’t Christmas till Hans Gruber falls from Nakatomi Plaza. So Merry Christmas to you, be you wise man or sucker; I love you and yippy kai Yay mother fucker.