Merry Christmas

[MO]

'Twas The Night Before Christmas.....Mom Style

'Twas the night before Christmas,
When all thru the abode,
Only one creature was stirring,
And she was cleaning the commode.

The children were finally sleeping,
All snug in their beds,
While visions of N-64 &Barbie
Flipped through their heads.

The dad was snoring
In front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle
Propped on his knee.

So only the mom
Heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh,
"Now what is the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush
Still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs,
And saw the old man.

He was covered with ashes
Which fell with a shrug;
"Oh great," muttered the mom,
"Now I have to clean the rug."

"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa,
"I'm glad you're awake."
"Your gift was especially
Difficult to make."

"Thanks, Santa, but all I want
Is time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled.
"So, I've made you a clone."

"A clone?" she muttered.
"What good is that?"
"Run along, Santa;
I've no time for chit chat."

Then out walked the clone -
The mother's twin;
Same hair, same eyes,
Same double chin.

"Fantastic!" the mom cheered.
"My dream has come true!"
"I'll shop, I'll read,
"I'll sleep a night through!"

From the room above,
The youngest did fret.
"Mommy! Come quickly,
"'I'm scared &I'm wet."

The clone replied,
"I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled.
"She sure knows her part."

The clone changed the small one
And hummed her a tune,
As she bundled the child
In a blanket cocoon.

"You're the best mommy ever;
"I really love you."
The clone smiled &sighed,
"And I love you, too."

The mom frowned &said,
"Sorry, Santa, no deal."
That's my child's LOVE
She is trying to steal."

Smiling wisely, Santa said,
"To me it is clear,
"Only one loving mother
"Is needed here."

The mom kissed her child
And tucked her in bed.
"Thank You, Santa,
"for clearing my head.

"I sometimes forget
"That it won't be very long
"When they'll be too old
"For my cradle &song."

The clock on the mantle
Began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone,
"It works every time."

With the clone by his side,
Santa said "Goodnight.
"Merry Christmas, dear Mom.
"You will be all right."


Sometimes we need reminding of what life is all about. Especially at times
during the holiday season, when all we seem to do is clean and bake and
shop
and and and and and and....You get the picture, I'm sure. So stop for a
moment
and hug that little one so special, whether he/she is 2 months or 22 years,
or
even older than that. For they are the Gift that God gave us in life ...
and
what a gift to be treasured, far above any other!
May the real meaning of Christmas be with you all this year.

[MO]

(A poetic Christmas tribute to the 4th I.D.)


'Twas 13th December, when deep in Iraq,
the 4th I.D. had a big enemy to track.
Saddam's stockings were smelly from months on the lam,
In hopes that Dean or Kerry would soon take command.

Our soldiers were nestled in their desert humvees,
they'd been told they were hunting Iraqi V.I.Ps;
And Saddam with head lice infesting his cap,
Had just settled down for an Iraqi-type nap,

When out on the farm there arose such a clatter,
He sprang from his shack to see what was the matter.
Away to his hideout he flew in a snit,
Tore open his pants leaping into the pit.

The searchlight on the dictator now caught in our snare,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to his nasty wild hair.
When, what to our soldiers' wide eyes should appear,
But a bedraggled old dictator cowering in fear!

Beneath the dirty old beard and the lice in his mane,
They were amazed to discover that it was Saddam Hussein.
More rapid than eagles they called up old Rummy,
And he whistled, and shouted, and said, "This is yummy!"

"Now, Condi! now, Sanchez! now, Cheney and Bush!
On, TV! on Radio! and Free Republic! Let's Rush!
To the top of the news! Get this video on!
Call FNC first! Then Dan Rather and Tom!

As a gloved doctor examined the smelly old goat,
he shoved a big wooden stick down Saddam's nasty throat,
Around the world in a flash the footage it flew,
As the French and Russians gulped, wondering what we now knew.

And then, in a twinkling, we heard from our leader
as he confirmed the capture of the despotic bottom feeder.
As he concluded his announcement, they replayed the scene,
(We heard nothing from Clark and nothing from Dean).

Saddam was covered in filth, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all greasy, with ashes and soot;
A bundle of money he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler who'd sold out to Chirac.

His eyes-how they sagged! his dimples now pits!
His forehead was covered with curious zits!
His head was examined for vermin and lice,
shaved his face of the beard that was his disguise;

A large piece of wood was probed in his mouth,
(And we don't even know if the gloved hand went South);
He still had a fat face but had lost his round belly,
His clothes were a shambles and his feet downright smelly.

He was skinny and drawn, the lying old coward,
And I laughed when I thought of the speech made by Howard;
But the spin of the media and a liberal talking head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

Dean spoke not a word; Kerry went straight to work,
And tried to get airtime (sounds just like the jerk),
Bush kept it short, not given to prose,
And giving a nod, up the polls he rose;

He sprang back to work, to his team gave a whistle,
And to D.C. they flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he went on his way,
"Happy Christmas to all-God Bless the USA!"