A good friend of mine sent this to me in an email. I thought it was not only funny, but pretty much true. Merry Christmas to all the overworked, under appreciated women who make the Christmas Cheer for their families!
T’was the night before Christmas
and all through the kitchen;
I was cooking and baking and
moanin and bitchin.
I’ve been here for hours,
I can’t stop to rest.
This room’s a disaster,
just look at this mess!
Tomorrow I’ve got
thirty people to feed.
They expect all the trimmings.
Who cares what I need!
My feet are both blistered,
I’ve got cramps in my legs.
The cat just knocked over
a bowl full of eggs.
There’s a knock at the door
and the telephone’s ringing;
frosting drips on the counter
as the microwave’s dinging.
Two pies in the oven,
dessert’s almost done;
my cookbook is soiled
with butter and crumbs.
I’ve had all I can stand,
I can’t take anymore;
Then in walks my husband,
spilling rum on the floor.
He weaves and he wobbles,
his balance unsteady;
then grins as he chuckles
“The eggnog is ready!”
He looks all around and
with total regret, says,
“What’s taking so long….
aren’t you through in here yet?”
As quick as a flash
I reach for a knife;
He loses an earlobe;
I wanted his life!
He flees from the room
in terror and pain and
screams, “MY GOD WOMAN,
YOU’RE GOING INSANE!!”
Now what was I doing,
and what is that smell?
Oh darn, it’s the pies!
They’re burned all to hell!
I hate to admit
when I make a mistake,
but I put them on BROIL
instead of on BAKE.
What else can go wrong?
Is there still more ahead?
If this is good living,
I’d rather be dead.
Lord, don’t get me wrong,
I love holidays;
It just leaves me exhausted,
all shaky and dazed.
But I promise you one thing,
If I live ’til next year,
You won’t find me pulling
my hair out in here.
I’ll hire a maid, a cook,
and a waiter; and if
that doesn’t work,
I’LL HAVE IT ALL CATERED!