Jingle, The Naughty Xmas Cat
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2007
Twas the week before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a bassett was stirring
Of course, neither was my spouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that (if I ever got my shopping done)
St. Nicholas would be there.
And I with my laptop
Secure on my lap
Had no ideas to write with
Not even a scrap.
When all of the sudden I heard such a clatter
I felt relieved to have an excuse to be rid of the matter.
The kids had not put away the cookies
And even left some, which was weird
And the pug looked really guilty
With smeared Oreos in her beard.
The black cat named Jingle (yes, that’s his real name)
Threw up on the floor
And my stuffed Kris Kringle
Was torn up by the door.
My husband was snoring – not a care in the world
As I got out the Spot Bot to clean up where the cat (and soon after, dog) hurled (#!$%#!!!)
And what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a chewed up miniature toy sleigh
with only five (gulp!) reindeer.
I spent the night cleaning
Instead of writing a word
And if you were my pets
Many not-very-Christmasy expletives you heard.
The kids were all snuggled up safe in their beds
While visions of Guitar Hero III danced in their heads.
After yelling at the cat and chastising the dog
I sat back down to my laptop to write this here blog.
With so much to do
And so much more to clean
It would take a military (and possibly, verrrrrry bloody) coup
To make Christmas keen.
I decided instead to compose my Christmas list
Just in case Santa
Was reading all this.
My Dearest, Darling Santa
Only one thing I ask
For George Clooney as my butler
Cleaning not being his only task 😉
Upon composing my list
I went up to bed
With visions of Georgie (that’s what I’d call him) in a g-string (sigh!)
Cleaning toilets (that would be soooo hot!). . .in my head.
*<; { > Happy Holidays! May Santa bring you what you REALLY want.