Treatit you all to a bit of an early Christmas eve poem. A vision of what is to come.
Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring
It couldn't move for the tat!
The cats bum was hung
From the fire with blue tack
In hope that hot dancing santa
Would soon empty his sack
Their wean is in hiding
Wanting it all to be over
Eyeing the outside
Their excuse they go nowhere
The man children were eating
A Greggs in their bed
Visions of candy canes
Danced in their head
The tress were bedecked
A forest of crap
They'd been up two months
A shiny dust trap
The pyjamas were new
Knock off designer
Crocs were sent back
Due to limits on Klarna
The tinsel was draped
Round the bumming Fort with care
Its covers still missing
They like it to be bare
The cleaning haul was used
to sparkle and shine
Bespoke wax melts lit
Eau de shart and pine
Family gifts are bespoke
from that small business B&M
Bought in September
In the season Wintum
The treats are all bought
Shades of beige to delight
Merry Christmas, hold your power
May you all spine bright