It was the night before Christmas,
when all through the abode
Only one creature was stirring,
and she was cleaning the commode
The children were finally sleeping,
all snug in their beds,
While visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie,
flipped through their heads.
The dad was snoring in front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle on his knee.
So only the Mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh, "Now what's the matter?"
With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes and soot, which fell with a shrug.
"Oh great," muttered the Mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."
"Ho-ho-ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake."
"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks, Santa, but all I want is some time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "I've made you a clone."
"A clone?" she asked, "What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chitchat."
"The mother's twin. Same hair, same eyes,
She'll cook, she'll dust. She also is wise.
She'll mop every mess with a wink and a snap
You can watch the soaps & perhaps take a nap."
"My dream come true! "I'll read., I'll shop!
I'll talk on the phone & never stop.
From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
"Mommy?! I'm scared, I'm cold and I 'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the Mom smiled, "She knows her part."
The clone changed the small one, and hummed a tune,
as she bundled the child, in a blanket cocoon.
"You the best mommy ever. I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "I love you, too."
The Mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal."
That's my child's love, she's trying to steal."
Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear, "
Only one loving mother, is needed here."
The Mom kissed her child, and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, it won't be very long,
When they'll be too old, for my cradle-song."
The clock on the mantle began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said, "Goodnight.
Merry Christmas, Mom, You'll be all right."
~Author Unknown~
Dear Santa,
I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned,
and cuddled my two children on demand,
visited the doctor's office more than my doctor,
sold 62 cases of candy bars to raise money to
plant a shade tree on the school playground,
and figured out how to attach nine patches
onto my daughter's Girl Scout sash with staples
and a glue gun. I was hoping you could spread
my list out over several Christmases,
since I had to write this letter with
my son's red crayon on the back of a receipt
in the laundry room between cycles,
and who knows when I'll find anymore
free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after
a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple,
which I already have) and arms that don't
flap in the breeze, but are strong enough
to carry a screaming toddler out
of the candy aisle in the grocery store.
I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere
in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.
If you're hauling big ticket items this year,
I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows
and a radio that only plays adult music;
a television that doesn't broadcast any programs
containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with
a secret compartment behind the crisper where
I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter
doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence,
along with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don't fight,
and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up
without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording
of Tibetan monks chanting, "Don't eat in the living room"
and "Take your hands off your brother,"
because my voice seems to be just out of my children's
hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.
And please don't forget the Play-Doh Travel Pack,
the stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers.
It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed
to crumble on any carpet making the In-laws'
house seem just like mine.
If it's too late to find any of these products,
I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb
my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food
warmer than room temperature without it being served in a
Styrofoam container. If you don't mind, I could also use
a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season.
Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable?
It will clear my conscience immensely.
It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help
around the house without demanding payment
as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family;
or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs
to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing
and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door.
I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip
and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney
and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch cold.
Help yourself to cookies on the table,
but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always,
Mom
PS--One more thing...You can cancel all my requests
if you can keep my children young enough to believe in you.
Tina's Prayer Gate
All Rights Reserved
December 2002