‘Twas the night before Christmas and she looked in despair
At the mess all around her in her gloomy lair
The tree was pathetic and dying already
The baubles were tarnished and the star so unsteady
The floor was adorned with the mess from the boys
She still had to wrap up their various toys
The kitchen was groaning – a mass all unwashed
Her joy of the season was feeling so squashed
She looked at the telly, at images clear
They showed happy families and great Christmas cheer
The ladies were perfect, their showhouses neat
And she wept in the corner on her comfiest seat
Poor lady. Hopefuly her boys will help her understand that the perfect Christmas is one spent with them and not one to compete with the perfectionists on TV.
Poor her! A clever twist on the poem. Let's hope she learns to turn her back on the TV and enlist those boys to help clean up the mess.