Tis the Season to be Jolly
I like to think I'm organised, by shopping through the year
Snaffling up the bargains and squirrelling here and there
Which means of course come Advent, when all the rest are fraught
I'm the one who's oh so smug, my presents all but bought
But therein lies a problem - my recalls just not great
And so the Christmas present stash got rather over weight
(And to add insult to injury the challenge that I had
was triple gifts for Mum in there, and not a thing for Dad)
I also found a gift or two I'd bought as 'special things'
A ball gown for Niamh's formal dance, a pair of Angel Wings,
A pile of books, a stash of pens, a clutch of fake tattoos
The list went on, the pile it grew, but nothing I could choose
So fatefully, so fatefully, I headed for the city
A list this time clutched in my hand, (and budget mores the pity)
At last! At last, the work was done, the gifts all fit to wrap
All that was left was cards to write (and perhaps a Nana nap)
The tree is trimmed, the lights are hung, and ornaments abound
I've filled the fridge, and pantry, and had some friends around
I draw the line at Christmas tunes - that is a step too far,
but do concede if by some chance I hear them in the car
I've even soaked the Christmas mince, it's languishing in brandy
My Masterchefs will make the tarts (they really are quite handy)
We've wrapped the gifts and trimmed the tree, made visits far and wide
I swear we couldn't be more festive even if we tried
We've 'done the lights', a late night shop, and Tree-Awamutu
Just Christmas Day itself and midnight mass still yet to do,
It is the season to be jolly, and for a time I'll be
but Boxing Day can't come to soon - so I can pack up that darn tree.
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