‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the farm
Not an animal was stirring, not even in the barn;
The stockings were hung by the woodstove with care,
In hope that Saint Nicholas soon would be there;
In the house though, Aiden wouldn’t get in his bed,
While John fought the toddler kicking him in the head,
“There won’t be any Santa Claus,” he yelled with a roar,
“Get in your bed. I better hear you snore.”
When out in the yard I heard a great clatter,
I ran to the window to see what was the matter,
I tripped over some Muck boots and stubbed my toe,
Then felt a pierce in my heel from a G.I. Joe.
After cussing and cursing I opened the door
To find a couple pigs and cows galore.
Not only that, they were covered in a layer of mud,
It had been raining all day and the yard was a flood.
I yelled for John to get the darn animals out,
And I laugh as G.I. Joe stopped him with a shout,
He came out cursing and limping a little,
“Oh come on,” he yelled as he saw all the cattle.
“Move it Buttercup, and Napoleon, and Squealer,
Get out of the yard you rotten sleep-stealers,
Get back in the fence!” He yelled at them unaware,
They just stood there staring at his underwear.
He put on his old coat and slid on the Muck boots,
but didn’t bother with the pants so he looked quite a hoot,
He wouldn’t get cold though, it was 60 degrees,
It’s Missouri weather and tomorrow it will freeze.
Aiden and I watched the pigs root up the yard
as the cows walked around, leaving all surfaces marred.
John tried Bud Williams’ style to move them gently
but then he got irritated and started screaming like a banshee.
Aiden’s eyes widened with each profane remark,
and the dogs were reacting with deep scary barks,
Aiden looked at me grinning and I had to face,
He’d repeat those words in a very public place.
As the last cow was finally behind the gate,
John made it in and it was getting very late.
Was it our tired eyes that saw a flash of red?
“There are new presents under the tree,” I said.
We rushed to the tree and picked out the new few,
Aiden opened his quickly, sending paper askew.
As soon as I saw it I cursed Santa for sure,
It was a mini drum set I knew I’d abhor.
But he made up for it, with a practical gift,
I opened by box and found something to make cleaning swift -
An industrial Roomba to clean up farmhouse floors,
So I can read more and not worry about chores.
John was last, still wondering if it was Santa he’d seen,
but he opened his gift and his eyes filled with gleam,
He laughed out loud, “Some fencing parts for me!”
The card read, “Here’s some help, you cheap SOB!”
As we sat there laughing we heard a great whistle,
and away St. Nick flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
THE COWS ARE OUT AGAIN, GOOD LUCK TONIGHT!