
In case you're living in a cave and don't know what's going on in the outside world, there are only four nights before Christmas. In honor of that I am posting four different versions of The Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore (picture on the right). The parodies of this poem are seemingly endless. The ones I'm posting today all come with attribution to the original authors. This post is longer than usual, but I don't plan to post again until next week.
Twas The Night Before Christmas ... For Moms
by Ruth Carter-Bourdon
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through 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 Nintendo and 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 Mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, "Now what is the matter?"
With the toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug,
"Oh, great," muttered Mom, "now I have to clean the rug."
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