‘Twas the next billing cycle, and havoc was wrought

To our finances by all the stuff that we’d bought.

I tried to be good; I strove to be frugal;

Still, you would think that I thought I owned Google.

 

This Christmas was different, I think you may know,

Since Daughter and Wife were both cast in a show.

That made it much tougher to bring to fruition

The moments required by Family Tradition.

 

Most of our Christmas, to tell you the truth

Happens because of the Wife of my Youth.

With her off performing, things could get real bad

For Christmas has just been left up to the Dad.

 

The Boy and I managed to pick out a tree

Without help from the womenfolk, just Al and me.

And that may explain, though I’m not quite sure why

The tree’s a bit short, lopsided, and dry.

 

The kids decorated the house and the tree.

I let them fly solo, without Mom or me.

So now, if you find our accoutrements lame

It isn’t my fault—I have children to blame.

 

No, God’s birthday cake didn’t happen this year

‘Cause a cake that I bake would be something to fear.

So I chose to avoid all the fuss and the drama

And treat Baby Jesus to cookies from Gramma.

 

The kids’ special ornaments didn’t get bought

Because, in the end, I simply forgot.

Nor did we wander ‘round looking at lights

Since the girls were performing or snoozing most nights.

 

Still, lest you think that our Christmas fell flat

I managed to pull a few things from the hat.

The stockings were there—Mom, Dad, Sister and Brother

Filled with good things we procured for each other.

 

The breakfast was tasty, with pancakes galore.

For dinner, a pork roast—we all wanted more.

In case you don’t know them, my sweet little brood

Will judge quite a lot by the taste of the food.

 

And so, in the end, we still gathered that morn.

We loved on each other and proclaimed “Christ is born!”

We opened the gifts ‘neath the leaning brown tree

And praised the One who made us all family.