T'was a month before Christmas and all threw my house,
the family is packing cuz I'm such a louse.
They know I'm real anal 'bout holiday cheer.
I'll drive them all crazy 'for the big day is here.
It will start with the tree and the decking of halls.
It must be just right or I'll start climbing the walls.
"No, please not like that" Is what they will hear.
"That doesn't look good" They'll start shaking with fear.
Once it's all done they'll colapse in their beds,
with visions of mom bound and gagged in their heads.
For next comes the wrapping. They'll all run and hide.
Knowing Martha Stewart cares less 'bout the ribbons she's tied.
Then there will be cookies to uniquely create.
Heck, it's the same recipe that last year I did bake.
But "NO" I'll insist, these cookies will shine.
For I must perfect cookies I bake every time.
Thousands of cookies imbedding my brain,
as I turn from the oven, I look quite insane.
The kids will shiver, the husband will flinch
and they'll run for the hills screaming "Mommy's the grinch".
The night before Christmas as I'm sipping my nog,
and reflecting on Christmas with my head in a fog,
exhausted but peaceful to finally see,
The real perfection in Christmas is my own family.
For Jay, Josh and Britt who know all too well what they are about to face. Love ya's
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