Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a louse (lice for the plural). The Orkin Person had cleaned out the place and got rid of all these tiny creatures.  It won’t be a happy Christmas for the lice.  By the way, do not use “twas” in your next writing, kids.  It is not a correct contraction.  It is supposed to sound cool, evoking a time past and getting you to pay attention to the rest of the story.  Writers have “literary license” to break rules.  You, on the other hand will get many points off for such liberties in your school work.  Where was I?  Oh yes…

 

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. Too bad the dryer stopped working.  There’s no way to get a repair person here on a holiday.  We hoped that Saint Nicholas, aka Santa, would soon be here.  We had heard he had been arrested for shop lifting but he was supposed to be out on bail by now.

 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds with terrifying dreams of sugar plums dancing on their heads. You never want a sugar plum on your head especially one that dances.  No wonder the kids have been in therapy since last Christmas.

 

Out on the lawn there arose a big clatter. The garbage man was probably late again.  I sprung from my bed to give the guy …. heck … (expletive deleted) for disturbing our quiet little neighborhood.  I tore open the shutters.  I didn’t know my own strength I guess.  Oh well, I will have the repair person work on the dryer and the shutters next week.  Then I threw up the hash.  That stuff settles like a rock.  Never eat hash right before bed.

 

Suddenly I spotted an old miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer. I have heard about home invasions before so I wasn’t surprised.  There he was.  The obese guy called the deer by name.  It appeared these might be his only friends.  Who names deer?  Especially, Pranser and Blitzen.  What kind of names are these?  I wasn’t impressed that the eight tiny reindeer were all tied up and apparently they had to drag the obese guy around.

 

Just as I thought he was going away I heard him on the roof. What the heck?  Hasn’t he heard about doorbells?  Suddenly, the obese guy, aka Santa, dropped down the chimney with his cloths all tarnished with ash and soot.  What a cleaning bill he must have.  But it serves him right for not using the door like normal people.

 

He had a bundle of toys flung on his back and his eyes twinkled and his dimples were merry with cheeks like roses and a nose like a cherry. I’m not kidding here.  The guy must have been high on something.  No wonder he distributed the toys without a word.

 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth. He must have major dental and jaw issues.  Smoke encircled his head like a wreath.  He obviously is a serious chain smoker.  I felt kind of sorry for him.  There he was … overweight, smoking and drinking. Unbelievable!  Clearly he has no regard at all for his health.  I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.  I know.  I shouldn’t laugh at the misfortunes of others.  He has serious addiction issues.  Who am I to judge?

 

He spoke not a word- still not talking for many reasons. Maybe he didn’t want to give me more information to use at his arrest?  Anyway, he went straight to work and filled all the stockings then turned with a jerk.  He has no clue that it’s wrong to break into homes, mess around with the family socks and fill up the house with pipe smoke.

 

Then, laying his finger aside of his nose- that must be a kind of warning. “Don’t call the cops.  I know where you live” … he rose up the chimney, once again ignoring the door.  I heard him exclaim as sirens sounded in the distance, “Oh no! Here come the cops! To all a good night!”

 

I couldn’t sleep a wink the rest of the night. “What if he comes back”, I thought, as I reloaded my 45.  Maybe I could put some cookies and a beer out for him.  That will keep him busy until the cops come.

 

The end. Merry Christmas.  Sleep well.