Monday, December 24, 2012

'Twas the Day I Flashed The Interstate

Gratuitous Christmas Squirrel.
'Twas the day before Christmas and all through my house 
the children were crazy (As were the dog and my spouse)
The carpet was covered in needles and dog hair
And as for my sanity? Not much to spare.

Santa came early 'cuz of holiday travel
The girls tore through presents all in a frazzle.
A puzzle and outfits, a dolphin and books.
A doctor kit, giraffe and kitchen that faux cooks.

There were checkups and dress up and screaming galore,
Then pancakes and packing and messes to ignore.
The 6 o'clock wake up had me feeling dour,
And after two days I needed of a shower.

No longer odiferous I fed the girls lunch,
Lily was loopy and Jovie? All munch.
Our neighbor stopped by with more gifts to bestow,
Then I brewed up some coffee (caffeine had to flow).

Brad loaded the car (it was packed to the gills)
Then drugged the dog (in cars, Snacks finds no thrills).
Puppy claimed shotgun and to further my defeat, 
The girls buckled in, I climbed to the backseat. 

Then away we drove on our two-plus hour trek,
After just five minutes, Snacks was a wreck. 
All panting and shaking and whining to boot.
Jovie fell asleep; Lily was chatty and cute.

Squeezed between two carseats my butt was quite numb,
Yet my spirits were high -- the end would soon come!
The mood shifted slightly when Lily got crabby,
Refusing to sleep, the ride got rather shabby.

The tot grabbed my sweater and then pulled my hair,
Demanded fruit snacks, wanted out of the chair.
Then Jovie woke up and cried in a rage,
To God I prayed for an end to this stage.

The good Lord half answered as Lily did nap.
But Jovie, still screaming, my energy did sap.
With one child down and a dog finally sleeping,
Stopping the car would leave everyone weeping.

A desperate time, I undid my buckle,
Then whipped out a lady so the kid could suckle.*
There I was on the highway contorted, exposed,
Trying my hardest to stay a little composed.

To all of the traffic on I-81,
Sorry for flashing everyone under the sun.
The baby was the saddest you'd ever seen,
She's only eight months, not yet ready to ween.

Finally, by Scranton all creatures were soothed,
The car was quiet and my shirt nice and smoothed.
We were just a half hour to grandparents' house,
But I enjoyed each second of nary a grouse.

I suppose one day we'll all look back and laugh,
(Maybe the truckers appreciated my gaffe).
But now I'm the sleepiest I've ever been,
and I'm ready to take my pillow for a spin.

Before I collapse in my bed in a heap,
Happy Christmas to all! (And to moms, good sleep!)

*I Know, I know. Way too much information. But what did I say previously about vulnerability? And writers have to take risks (horribly mortifying risks). Also, it really was the perfect word and it rhymed with buckle. 

(If you'd like a more traditional, yet much creepier version of this tale, watch Dateline's Keith Morrison read "The Night Before Christmas".) 

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