T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a child was stirring and the cat caught the mouse.
The stockings were laid on the couch quite so fine,
In hopes that Dad wouldn't forget mine, this time.
The children were sprawled out, all over the floor,
Paid $600.00 for beds...but they like the floor more!
And Daddy so tired and I just the same,
Passed out from exhaustion...wrapping made us insane!
When down the bedroom hall, arose a great clatter,
I nudged my husband awake, to go see what was the matter.
Down the hall he shuffled, but wanting sleep more,
Arrived, barely awake and thrust open the door.
And what to his astonished eyes should be there,
But a tiny little girl, in pink underwear.
This child that stood there, so smiley and small,
Had found a blue marker and colored the wall.
"Oh, no!" "Oh, crap!" and "Gall-dang it all!"
"Why did you have to color the wall?"
"Get in your bed, I'm angry at you!"
"Why did you think this was okay to do?"
This child was covered, from her head to her feet,
In marker tattoos, she had drawn on, so neat.
Her eyes, how they shined, and he heard her say,
"Pretty picture for YOU Daddy. I do okay?"
Dad spoke not a word, but got straight to work,
Cleaned up the child, then turned with a jerk.
And laying the child, back in her bed,
He wished her good-night, and kissed her forehead.
He shuffled back in the room and gave just a sigh,
And with a slight chuckle, he then shut his eyes.
But I heard him whisper, as he slowly passed out,
"That child is what Christmas, is really about."