Christmas Treats and other Tales

[Judy Harder]

The REAL Night Before Christmas
(By Parents)

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse

Instructions were studied and we were inspired, in hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds, while Dad and I faced the evening with dread: a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's townhouse to boot! And now, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat - let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!

Too late for last-minute returns or replacement; if we can't get it right, it goes straight to the basement! When what to my worrying eyes should appear but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,

With each part numbered and every slot named, so if we failed, only we could be blamed. More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out, all over the carpet they were scattered about.

"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there! Slide on the seats, and staple the stair! Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand." "Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."

And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night with "assembly required" till morning's first light.

We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work, till our eyes, they went blurry; our fingers all hurt. The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin before we attached the last rod and last pin.

Then laying the tools away in the chest, we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest. But I said to my husband just before I passed out, "This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.

Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring, and not run to the store for one single thing! We did it! We did it! The toys are all set for the perfect, most magical, Christmas, I bet!"

Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went, though I suppose there's something to say for those self-deluded- I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

[Judy Harder]

Why Women Would Love Being Santa Claus

1. You'd never be expected to make the coffee.

2. There'd be no more early morning decisions about what to wear to the office.

3. You could grow a gut the size of Fat Albert's and consider it a job requirement.

4. One big black belt - accessorized for life!

5. There'd be no reason to have your colors done.

6. Everyone would be extremely nice to you, even if you weren't.

7. Should people suggest your belly jiggled... that is when you giggled... like a bowlful of jelly, you could hit them with your purse.

8. You'd always work in sensible footwear.

9. There'd be no need to play office politics; a hearty 'Ho! Ho! Ho!', would remind everyone who's boss.

10. You wouldn't need an expensive briefcase.

11. No one would dare ask for a ride to work.

12. Never again have to wear pantyhose or worry about your slip showing.

13. No more trips to the vending machine... you'd just snack on milk and cookies all day.

14. You'd never be asked to take an early retirement package.

15. Juggling work and family would be a breeze because your children would adore you; even your teen-agers would want to sit in your lap.

16. You'd be guaranteed the best chair in the office.

17. Age discrimination wouldn't be an issue.

18. You'd never grab the wrong coat on your way out the door.

19. No one would ask to see your job description.

20. Your co-workers would be on notice that they'd better not pout.

[Diane Amberg]

Now that one I really like!

[Teresa]

A doggy Christmas

[Judy Harder]

Merry Christmas To My Female Friends                   

                                                                           

                 If I were ol' Santa, you know what I'd do                 

                 I'd dump silly gifts that are given to you                 

            And deliver some things just inside your front door             

                Things you have lost, but treasured before.                 

                                                                           

                 I'd give you back all your maidenly vigor,                 

                And to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.               

           Then restore the old color that once graced your hair           

              Before rinses and bleaches took residence there.             

                                                                           

            I'd bring back the shape with which you were gifted             

               So things now suspended need not be uplifted.               

              I'd draw in your tummy and smooth down your back             

            Till you'd be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.           

                                                                           

            I'd remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin           

          So you wouldn't spend hours rubbing grease on your skin           

               You'd never have flashes or queer dizzy spells               

            And you wouldn't hear noises like ringing of bells.             

                                                                           

               No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes               

        No searching for spectacles when they're right on your nose.       

            Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny             

           >From a doctor who thinks you're a nervous old granny.           

                                                                           

          You'd never have a headache, so no pills would you take.         

          And no heating pad needed since your muscles won't ache.         

               Yes, if I were Santa, you'd never look stupid               

         You'd be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid.         

                                                                           

      I'd give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle     

          And the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.           

                 But alas! I'm not Santa.I'm simply just me                 

                 The matronest of matrons you ever did see.                 

                                                                           

             I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I've got             

              But I'm due at my doctor's for an estrogen shot.             

             Even though we've grown older this wish is sincere             

                Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.               

                                                                                                                                               
                       A friend loveth at all times.        

[Diane Amberg]

That's the Santa I want!

[Ms Bear]

Maybe if we close our eyes and dream.  Just don't go near the mirror.