This is not my poem, but I came across it recently and it served as a precious reminder of how the season can overcome us and blur the lines of what is truly important.
Put away the cape, and don’t worry about what won’t get done. Kiss your children; linger at their bedside a little longer.
May you all be blessed this Christmas.
It was 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 64 and Barbie, flipped through their heads.
The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, “Now what’s 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 and soot, 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 some time alone.”
“Exactly!” he chuckled, “I’ve made you a clone.”
“A clone?” she asked, “What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I’ve no time for chit-chat.”
Santa produced the mother’s twin.
Same hair, same eyes, same double chin.
“She’ll cook, she’ll dust,” She’ll mop every mess.
You’ll relax, take it easy, Watch The Young & the Restless.”
“Fantastic!” the mom cheered. “My dream come true!
“I’ll shop. I’ll read. I’ll sleep a whole night through! “
From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
“Mommy?! I scared… and I am wet.”
The clone replied, “I’m coming, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” the mom smiled, “She knows her part.”
The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
as she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.
“You the best mommy ever. I really love you.”
The clone smiled and sighed, “I love you, too.”
The mom frowned and said, “Sorry, Santa, no deal.
That’s my child’s love, she’s 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 into bed.
“Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, 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, Mom, You’ll be all right.”
– Author Unknown