Twas Three Days Before Christmas, And All Through The House

Twas three days before Christmas,
and all through the house,
nothing was stirring,
but spilled coffee on Mimi's blouse.

The laundry was stacked
on the ironing board so high,
and Grandma Sue was visited
by her favorite son (my name is Bry).

Butch was nestled
in the recliner, with feet high in the air,
Couldn't talk to him.
Didn't matter. Why? Cuz he can't hear...

When out in the driveway
their arrived quite a clamor,
like someone was wedging a nail
with a hammer.

I look out the window
and saw a white van,
and out climbed the tiniest,
most miniature man.

My mother at a table,
her iPad on her chest,
began to yell, "Fuck. Shit. I spilled
coffee on my vest."

She spittered and spattered,
and sputtered from her breakfast chair,
"That better not be the oxygen man,
I still have to do my hair!"

I ran to the door before
the buzzer he could press,
"God Dammit, Bryan. You douchebag,
My hair's still a mess!"

I pointed the man up the stairs
where she sat,
(a peculiar little fellow
in a red and green hat).

"I'm here with the toys,
to hook you up with clean air,"
(I looked out the window,
but where were his reindeer?)

Then Cynde made a call,
FaceTime in fact,
& I started to giggle,
keep my humor in tact.

The lil fellow hopped on a chair,
to wrap a strap around my mommy,
my nose began to wiggle, "Where was Casey?
She'd also find this funny?"

He twisted and wiggled,
using all of his might...
those oxygen tank gadgets
were attached a little too tight,

so with rump in the air,
and advice on his tongue,
he demonstrated to my mother,
(dang - he was strong),
Cuz the tank opened up,
blew hurricane winds in her face,
cheeks flapped to the ceiling,
hair blasted to outer space.

"Whoops, I'm sorry,"
the miniature man said,
"I didn't mean to blow
your glasses off your head.

Mimi's nose wrinkled tightly,
and she didn't look happy,
"What? What did you say? I can't hear a thing,"
screamed my Papi.

"I'm afraid there's a mistake,"
said my mom to the man,
"I didn't order a tank,
 take it back if you can."

The man was so kind,
 and he treated her graciously like a Queen,
Nothing cruel in his demeanor,
this lil guy could never be mean.

He packed up his goods,
and said he was sorry for the error,
Butch sat in the recliner s
imply day-dreaming for beer.

I decided to walk the little man to the door,
"Sorry about my mom...she can be quite the chore."
But he looked up from my knees, pointed a finger to my eyes,
"She's a good one, that Sue. Being honest is a prize."

Then he scooted real quick
to climb high in his car,
quickly disappearing
before sparkling away like a star.

I ran back up the stairs and asked,
"Did I dream that just happened?"
Mom felt her wet chest,
& yes her blouse was still dampened.

My father turned off the t.v.
and asked, "Who was that tiny fellow?"
"One of Santa's elves," I speculated as I fetched him some jello.
"He came to help mom with her breathing apparatus,"
and I winked at my mom to say, "Yeah, This Is Us.

Ho Ho Ho. Merry Christmas. The best stories are those you don't have to make up.