My Grandad was great at creating little rhymes. One of his favourites was 'Rachel 'surname' is no good. Chop her up for firewood!' He created longer pieces, too, and sometimes wrote them down but I don't know if anyone kept any of them when he died.
On Christmas Eve in 2023, we prepped for Father Christmas and pulled out my favourite Christmas story, The Night Before Christmas. Our children hurried into their beds and I stood between their doors, reading the story from the landing. They know it well so they didn't need to see the pictures as the visions of sugarplums were already dancing in their heads!
We've recently got a Ring doorbell and have been amazed at how useful it has been for parcels arriving in the build up to Christmas. From nowhere, when I got to the 'out on the lawn there rose such a clatter' part, I swapped it for a funny line about Santa appearing on the doorbell! My husband laughed from downstairs and I was quite pleased with myself!
While waiting for the children to go to sleep so that Father Christmas was clear to come in, I played with the words of the story a little more and came up with this first draft of my own...
The Night Before Christmas (with a modern twist!)
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the air source heat pump with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of screen time danced in their heads.
And mum in her onesie and I in my oodie,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s snoozie!
When on the Ring doorbell we saw this guy,
Put his key in the lock and give it a try.
I picked up my phone, tapped the app labelled Ring,
Watched him open the door and walk right in!
The Hive lights came on as his fingers he snapped,
And the shutters he opened when towards Alexa he clapped.
Out in the garden, he’d parked up his sleigh,
Plugged into the fast charge so he could soon speed away.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were too tight, stretching over his gut.
An iPhone, a PC, PlayStation, a Switch,
I hope the WiFi is working with not even a glitch!
His eyebrows were laminated, his dimples brushed on,
His lips plumped with filler, his wrinkles were gone!
The case of a vape he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a well-fed belly,
That shook when he laughed like a vodka jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but his fingers they tapped,
The tune from his AirPods, his Spotify year wrapped.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, out the door he goes.
He sprang to his sleigh, and pulled out the plug,
Took some Prime from his sack and took a big glug.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night.”
I'll work on it a bit more next year: I'm not happy with the 'oodie' part as I now know it's pronounced 'udd-ie' so doesn't quite rhyme, and need to sort out the tense in 'out the door he goes' - how very Yorkshire! Maybe I'll try some more familiar stories as I come across them, too!
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