‘Twas the Night Before Festivus

‘Twas the night before Festivus, ’twas windy and cold.
Inside we all gathered ’round the Festivus Pole,
So straight and so silver, light shining, refracting,
No garland or tinsel (we find it distracting).

No gifts underneath, no dolls and no toys,
No stockings or presents for good girls and boys.
We ate our spaghetti, which Ma had prepared
In hopes that our grievances soon would be aired.

“I’ve got lots of problems,” I said with a frown.
“It’s Festivus time, and you’ve all let me down.”
More rapid than eagles my grievances came,
I insulted each family member by name.

With my grave disappointments expressed at full-length,
It was nearly the time to test our Feats of Strength.
“It’s Festivus time,” I said as I grinned,
“And you know it’s not over ’til Papa is pinned!”

I jumped at my son with a leap and a bound
And before he could say, “sugar plum,” he was down.
But I heard him exclaim with all of his might,
“Happy Festivus, Dad!” and we wrestled all night.

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