Tag Archives: Christmas

How The Grinch Stole Christmas (The Epilogue)

I wrote this five years ago and it seemed to go over well enough with all nine people who read it at the time, so maybe it may find a wider audience and even reach double digit readership. Here comes five minutes of your life you’ll never get back.

And Daddy Who hoped in the fridge would at least
Be a cutlet or two of leftover roast beast
But the kitchen was strewn with flattened floofloovers
And trampled tartookas, whohoopers, gardookas
The Grinch was passed out in a heap on the floor
With ten empty bottles of Who-brew, or more
“I wager his liver grew three sizes, too”
Said Daddy Who, wondering just what he would do
To quiet the grumbling noise in his tummy
When the Grinch had inhaled every single thing yummy
Thus, Daddy Who went and MacGyvered a meal
Of leftover ramen, corn chips, and an eel
No time for the bizilbigs, floof or pantookas,
For Monday meant work with his fellow palookas
“So go get some sleep, my sweet yutz” said the missus
“But your eel-breath means I’ll skip holiday kisses”
So long, Christmas
So long, beer
So long relatives, far and near
But Christmas stays within our grip
Although there’s no more onion dip
Christmas spirit still applies
Especially when mom makes pies
Stay heart to heart and hand in hand
When Christmas doesn’t go as planned.

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Riddle Me This

Dad is not supposed to empty the dishwasher before the kids get up, because it might make noise that will wake up the kids – the same kids who sleep through thunderstorms, passing garbage trucks and low-flying helicopter squadrons, and who fight like Rikki-Tikki-Tavi┬áto avoid waking up every single day of the year not named Easter or Christmas.

When the revolution comes and I am el gran jefe, I will send an ice cream truck through town 15 minutes before the school buses arrive. No child has been known to sleep through an ice-cream-truck jingle, no matter how distant.