'Twas 3 Nights After Christmas

'Twas 3 nights after Christmas, when all thru the house,
Not a creature was stirring, we thought, not even a mouse.
The stockings were packed in the attic with care,
In hopes I could find them next year right up there.

The children were at their dad's or in their own beds,
While visions of Clean and Quiet danced in our heads.
With ma in her sweats and dad in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out in the garage there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away down the hall I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and fell on my ash. (Work with me here)

The light on the breast of the new-fallen bimbo
Gave light to the water I slipped in, above and below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a mouse with a sticky pad trap stuck to it's rear.

With the little old mouse, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment I needed to call for Rick.
More rapid than eagles his footsteps they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called out by name!

"Now Dammit! Now Mother! Now Effer and Shitter!
That stupid mouse! I will just hit her!
To the top of the entrance, to the top of the garage wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So inside the garage the mouse and man flew,
With it's ass full of sticky pad trap, and St Rickolas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. (I know, mice don't have hooves,
work with me here, too!)
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Over the boxes St Rickolas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in sweat, from his head to his ash,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and trash.
A giant broom he had flung over his back,
And he looked like a mad man, or someone on crack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The blob of Redman he held tight between his gum and his cheek,
And the smoke out of his ears encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a mad face and me, a little round belly,
That shook when I laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
I was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him running around, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of the broom's head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And beat the poor mouse to death, then turned with a jerk.

And with his finger pushing his glasses up on his nose,
And giving a nod, off the garage floor he rose!
He sprang to his feet, to his wife gave a whistle,
And I wondered what the hell was the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he came into sight,
"I think I blew out my knee, but I will be alright!"