A Night Before Christmas For Moms
A Night Before Christmas For Moms

It was the night before Christmas, when all thru 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 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 chit-chat.”
It was the mother’s twin.
Same hair, same eyes, same double chin.

“She’ll cook, she’ll dust,
She’ll mop every mess.
You’ll relax, take it easy,
Watch The Young & the Restless.”

“Fantastic!” the mom cheered.
“My dream has come true!
I’ll shop. I’ll read,
I’ll sleep a whole night through!”

From the room above, the youngest began to fret.
“Mommy?! I'm scared… 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're 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.”

A final diagnosis
Thought I'd let my doctor check me,
'Cause I didn't feel quite right. . .
All those aches and pains annoyed me
And I couldn't sleep at night.

He could find no real disorder
But he wouldn't let it rest.
What with Medicare and Blue Cross,
We would do a couple tests.

To the hospital he sent me
Though I didn't feel that bad.
He arranged for them to give me
Every test that could be had.

I was fluoroscoped and cystoscoped,
My aging frame displayed.
Stripped, on an ice cold table,
While my gizzards were x-rayed.

I was checked for worms and parasites,
For fungus and the crud,
While they pierced me with long needles
Taking samples of my blood.

Doctors came to check me over,
Probed and pushed and poked around,
And to make sure I was living
They then wired me for sound.

They have finally concluded,
Their results have filled a page.
What I have will someday kill me;
My affliction is old age.