Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring EXCEPT that darn mouse.
It chewed and it rustled so to honor my spouse
I set out some traps for that darn pesky mouse.
We don’t have a chimney, or mantle or poker
And the nearest we own to a fireplace is a smoker.
Our stockings were all holey and strewn under the bed
So our old hunting boots hung by the smoker instead.
Our puppy was nestled all snug in her bed
Under the laundry room table with her stuffed toy named Fred.
She quivered and whimpered; to watch her was funny
As she dreamed she would finally corral that ol’ bunny.
My pj’s were long johns, all cozy and white
And I crawled into bed and turned out the light.
Deer season had ended with no deer in the shed
So visions of deer jerky danced in my head.
My wife lay beside me in jammies of red
She was already dreaming of Claus and his sled
When out in the drive there arose such a ruckus
I sprang from my bed to see what had struck us.
I should have known not to “spring” from my bed
Cause I busted my big toe and clobbered my head.
As I limped up the hallway I grabbed my deer rifle
I’d show them I was someone with whom not to trifle!
I peered out the window and what did I see?
Why old Santa himself, alive as could be.
And there stood old Rudolf in all of his glory,
With his nose shining brightly just like in the story.
But all I could see was his head on my wall .
With that bright red nose twinkling to brighten my hall
His rack was enormous, at least twenty points,
The thought of its score made me weak in my joints
I wanted that rack, whether legal or not,
So I eased out the door to line up my shot.
I clicked off the safety and steadied myself
So I wouldn’t endanger the Jolly Old Elf.
Now remember those traps I’d set out before?
Well there happened to be one right by the door.
While I tried to be sneaky so no one would know
That trap clamped its jaws around my sore big toe.
I jerked on the trigger and the shot went astray
And ended up lodged in the front of the sleigh.
The reindeer all spooked and yanked on the sled
Dumping St Nick on the floor on his head.
They shot out the drive as slick as a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim as they drove out of sight
Rudolph you blockhead; no more deer hunters tonight!
I couldn’t believe that in front of my house
I’d almost shot Santa because of that mouse
At least Rudolph’s safe I thought with a smile
But I bet this means coal in my boot for a while.
Note* the events depicted above DO NOT reflect the ethics of the author.
No reindeer were harmed in the telling of this story.