It Was Christmas Eve

This poem was written with a nod to the old Christmas favourite, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas,' but I've put my toddler-mum spin on it.

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It was Christmas Eve and her toddler was in care.

It was time to work; she had to prepare.

The presents were wrapped with minimal flair.

Her relatives hadn’t done it, so why should she care?

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Turning on the TV, it was time for Home Alone.

This was her tradition, her Christmas zone.

She went to the kitchen to pour some gin.

“Time to get merry,” she said with a grin.

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She worked so hard to make a Christmas Day feast,

but she’s definitely no chef, to say the very least.

The decorations wouldn’t stay on her Christmas cake.

They kept sliding off. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!”

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She stirred and stirred the gravy, but it was still lumpy.

Why couldn’t she do this? It was making her grumpy.

She pulled out the greens; they were a little wilted.

She reached for the dressing… but then she spilt it.

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Her cooking was interrupted by a sudden, loud chime.

She thought to herself, “Will I get this done in time?”

A late Christmas delivery — someone waiting at the door.

She opened it with such a crash, the wreath slid to the floor.

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Going to hang her son’s stocking, she saw it had been lost.

Finally, she found it in the freezer; her toddler hid it in the frost.

Dipping into the Christmas Day chocolates, she nearly ate them all;

maybe she could pretend the box was small?

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She realised time had run out as she looked at the clock;

if she didn’t get her son soon, he’d be in a strop.

She frantically grabbed her car keys; she didn’t have to go far.

Then, she slipped on a toy train and slid straight to the car.

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There were soccer-mum vans all over the lot,

but her cute little blue car slid straight into a spot.

She found her little boy; he was playing out in the yard.

He looked right past her and said, “Where’s Dad?” with total disregard.

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While driving back home, she smiled and thought to herself,

“Thank God I don’t bother with Elf on the Shelf.”

Oh well, it wouldn’t be perfect, but she’d given it her all.

She really hoped her little boy would have an absolute ball.