Twas the Day AFTER Christmas

It’s the day after Christmas
And the house is a mess,
Littered with paper and dishes,
Cookie crumbs and a dress.

The dishwasher’s full
And more dishes to wash.
The fridge is overflowing
With leftovers to nosh.

Our presents are scattered
All over the room,
The glittery bows
Lifting the gloom.

Pine needles are falling
From our big Christmas tree,
Which now leans to the left
As if down on one knee.

The dogs are both sleeping.
Their ribbons, they’ve shed.
They ate all their turkey
And fell into bed.

The cat, for his part,
Is still hunting the mouse,
Who by now must be starving
Behind our oven – his house.

The kids have gone back
To their dad’s in the snow,
And I am so thankful
That I didn’t have to go.

Todd and I don our gifts,
Monogrammed terry robes,
And settle down with some wine,
Watching news from the globe.

We’ll eat some more food
When we’re hungry, with wine,
And reflect on yesterday’s
Celebrations, and good times.

Yes it was wonderful,
With parents, aunt and her son,
And no one got drunk,
And no clothes were undone.

We just ate till we burst,
And no drinks were spilled.
The dogs didn’t beg,
They just laid down and chilled.

And no one passed out,
And only one dog peed
In the house, downstairs,
Which I effectively cleaned.

There was joy, there was love,
Christmas music, and cheer,
We smiled and sighed,
Thank God it’s next year.

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