The Night Before Christmas

This is the seventh in a series of twelve posts I did, beginning in October, all on Christmas reflections.  All of this prattling up to this point has been about what led up to Christmas Day.  There is still one more step to take, and that is The Night Before Christmas.

The Night Before Christmas

and

I Couldn't Sleep

Twas the night before Christmas, and I couldn’t sleep.

My mind filled with Santa, my thoughts in a heap.

Mama had told me, “Just lie down and rest,

The last thing I need is a ten-year-old pest.”

But sleep wouldn’t come, I know cause I tried;

I drank some fresh water, lay on my left side.

I thought to myself, I’ll just count to a million.

If that doesn’t work, I’ll go on to a billion.

I got out my flashlight and took a long look,

At The Prince and the Pauper, my favorite book.

I got it for last year and like it a lot;

Whenever we’re driving, it sure hits the spot.

I could hear Mama talking and moving around, 

And she said she’d tell Santa if I made a sound.

"But Mama,” I said, again and again,

“I never will sleep till I’ve read Little Men.”

“Well, finish tomorrow, and go to sleep now, 

Or you will be sorry, cause I’ll have a cow.

Then you’ll know better than ever before,

How to close up your eyelids and learn how to snore.

There’s simply no reason to still be awake;

It’s way past your bedtime, for Bob Cratchitt’s sake.

And here we both stand, when you should be asleep; 

Under the covers, with nary a peep.

Well, listen up Mister, and listen up well.

Or you’re going to find that I’m ready to yell.

And if that occurs and your father appears,

You'd better be quiet, until the dust clears.

He told me to tell you should you need to know,

That the time will go quickly, so go with the flow.

He’s bound to be worried that you’re still awake,

So stop all this nonsense, for Tiny Tim’s sake.

Look if you will at the good girls and boys;

All sleeping so soundly awaiting their toys.

Can you not see that you’re making a mess?

Are you trying to tell me you're doing your best?.”

I thought to myself this is getting quite serious. 

My mind won’t stop spinning; I’m feeling delirious.

If I don’t start napping my strength will soon fail; 

The cops will be called, I’ll end up in jail.

And all because I just could not sleep;

It’s happened before and you didn’t say bleep.

Just cause it’s Christmas and Santa’s nearby;

I’m supposed to sleep-I’m asking you, why?

I think when I’m older and wiser by far,

That I will have access to some local bar.

I won’t care about Santa and all of his deer,

Cause I will be sleeping from too much cold beer.