Sometimes I shop in the town
Sometimes I feed the kids at the mall
When the sitter has let me down.
Santa’s on a beer break,
J.Crew is empty and cold
The mall is draped in tacky,
I’m feeling tired and old.
So home we go in traffic
No TV or X-box tonight
We’ll make Christmas lists together
And bring to our dark moods some light.
I’ve managed to light a Yule Log and stop the “He didn’t -- you dids!”
Pencils out, paper ready, we sit down by the fire
For the kids and I and the catalogs with Santa to conspire.
(dainty sip of eggnog)
Their lists are long
But mine is longer
Their eggnog’s sweet
But mine is stronger.
Dear Santa, you and I have had
A long and close relation,
So if you go to J.Crew for me,
Follow instructions without variation.
One: no blended yarns from livestock that feel suspiciously like a cat
Two: no flimsy silk-ish tops that need camis, ‘cause they make me itch.
Three: no mini skirts, no leather shorts (the public will thank you for that).
Four: no falling hems, no slipping cuffs, even just by a stitch
No splitting seams, no fraying edges, no plastic threads --
And please oh please not one thing that sheds!
Oh, festive spirits, joyful smiles,
Santa, dear, when I’m dressed up in finest holiday fettle
Don’t spoil my ensemble with mystery metal
(pours more eggnog)
Gosh, this was going to be such a sweet little list
And look at me now, I am totally p----d.
Give me back that catalog, you little wretch, or I will tie a knot in the top of your stocking
And what I will tell Santa about you and your brothers will be totally shocking.
And NO you may NOT taste my eggnog.