Hop it, Santa: I was up all night, not you. Photo: contributed
Hop it, Santa: I was up all night, not you. Photo: contributed Thinkstock

Christmas: when some fat old man gets credit for my work

TWAS the night before Christmas, and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except for the spouse.

The stockings were stuffed full of discounted fare,

With last-minute junk that Mummy put there.

The children were complaining and refusing to sleep

They were told "Go to bed'' and "Start counting sheep!''

We work through the night to prepare for the morn,

There was many a swear, and many a yawn.

The kids wake at three and are sent back to bed.

They are trying to catch the fat man in the sled.

Now Christmas is here, and I'm all sorts of tired,

I sip at my coffee to try and get wired.

They open their presents and the house is destroyed.

And Santa is thanked (which makes me annoyed).

Christmas with children is a magical time.

Now I'll sip my vodka, with lemon and lime.

 

Jody Allen is the founder of Stay At Home Mum: http://www.stayathomemum.com.au.



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