Twas The Night of Our Christmas

Twas The Night Of Our Christmas

Twas the night of our Christmas, our guests soon arrive,

Who’s gonna drink, who’s gonna drive?

Thirty-five people with bloodlines to say,

This is the place we spend Christmas day.

 

Thirty-five guests arrive at the door,

Each brings a bottle, but we’re going to need more.

Siblings and uncles, parents and aunts,

Cousins and children, some wearing new pants.

 

And I in my sweater, my wife in her dress,

Both knew in eight hours, we’d clean up the mess.

The couches get crowded, we run out of chairs,

Some sit on the floor, some sit on the stairs.

 

The scent of a turkey fills every room,

My wife’s special stuffing, trapped in its womb.

Now everyone’s drinking more than they should,

The fire is dying. We add some more wood.

 

No more devotion, to Elf on a Shelf,

So damn relieved as I talk to myself.

Things going well, seems everything’s nice,

I wish and I hope, we don’t run out of ice.

 

The pass around gift game commences at five,

Predicted latecomers slowly arrive.

They join in the fight, though we try to be pleasant,

As each one attempts to upgrade their present.

 

Christmas songs play, a background of noise,

So many children, so many toys.

We lose track of time, then I get a tweet,

From young cousin James, “It’s time we should eat.”

 

There’s turkey, potatoes, carrots and ham,

Salad, asparagus, squash and some yam.

Each family brought their favourite desert,

This yearly tradition, we eat till we hurt.

 

We put out the nametags, where everyone sits,

Tight little spaces, though everyone fits.

The meal begins with a toast and a prayer,

Thirty-five diners, there’s food everywhere.

 

We sit for an hour, and eat what is shared,

Forgot the cranberries, nobody cared.

The meal concludes, so back to the couch,

Everyone’s stomach, has added a pouch.

 

Cause its all about family whoever they are,

With wide-open arms, and one open bar.

We ignore all the troubles that every year brings,

It almost gets quiet then somebody sings.

 

More people join, the singing gets loud,

The antique piano attracting a crowd.

All lyrics forgotten, we still persevere,

We croon Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

 

It’s getting so festive, as each tries to talk,

Someone suggests, we should go for a walk.

So on with the coats, some stroll for a while,

Around the block twice, though they claim it’s a mile.

 

When the walkers return, we heat up the drinks,

More family stories, as everyone thinks…

When the calendar moves to the last twenty-fifth,

Each clan embraces their truth and their myth.

 

As families expand, traditions must too,

A little bit me, a little bit you.

Yearly commitments can stress people out,

Forgetting what this time of year’s all about.

 

Eventually each person offers a point,

And somebody’s nose gets out of joint.

It’s not your role to please each girl and boy,

Offer your smile to ones who need joy.

 

And put aside problems that aren’t worth the fight,

Seeking the peace, while seeing the light.

Sometime it works, sometimes it doesn’t,

Some still will argue, what was and what wasn’t.

 

The younger ones, all go downstairs to escape,

The old family movies, on a VHS tape.

We watch and lament at faces we’ve missed,

The last time we hugged, the last time we kissed.

 

The party subsides as we run out of beer,

Slurring our plans to start the New Year.

It’s after eleven, or so says my watch,

One final story, one final scotch.

 

Twas the night of our Christmas, that finally ends,

One last embrace, from family and friends.

The occasional laugh, the occasional tear,

I pray Thirty-five, will repeat this next year.

 

Cue the Blong… Oh let’s just use Melf the Elf again.