The week before Christmas

The week before Christmas has been an absolute killer. There is so much happening for the kids at school  – and so much to remember that I have lists all over the bloody house. And I only have two kids. This tells me I am clearly not capable of having three. Norm will be delighted. Anyway here is a little poem about the last week of term.

The week before Christmas

 It was the week before Christmas, when all through the school

Mothers were frazzled and silly jumpers were cool

Notes were stuffed into school bags with haste

That said “tomorrow bring tinsel or biscuits or cakes”

*

But the parents wouldn’t see this until 8:29

“My friend has got biscuits Mum where are mine?”

“Shit” said the mother, out loud in the car

“Mum that’s a swear word, put a pound in the jar”

*

Fuck the jar, said the Mum (but just in her head)

And drove back to the garage where she’d just stopped for bread

Buying the biscuits she handed them to the kids

Who wait till she’s driving then open the lids

*

“Don’t eat them you animals,” she yelled into their lair

They both roar with laughter spraying crumbs in her hair

Pulling up to school they all run in late

At least there are spaces to park near the gate

*

Driving to work Mum starts to feel better

Because she had remembered EVERYTHING from the nativity letters

She even made the costumes, it took her all night.

“I hate my costume, you made me wear tights”

*

“Everyone laughed, you must hate me Mum”

He doesn’t know how many times she stabbed her own thumb

Making angels or shepherds or stars or wise men

“You look amazing,” says Mum “Ignore them”

*

The costume was amazing. But where is it now?

The play is in an hour and it’s not in the house

“I think it’s at school,” says child number one

Grabbing the car keys Mum starts to run

*

But no one can find it. The costume has vanished

The boy starts to cry but there is no need to panic

Mum kept some spares so they call off the search

With seconds to spare they head to the church

*

That night when the children were snuggled in bed

Mum checks her emails to see what they said

The festive requirements make Mum start to sob

There is only one solution – to give up her job

*

Tuesday go to nursery with mince pies for a party

Wednesday is the fun run and the toddler’s nativity

No uniform Thursday (with shoes that are sturdy)

Christmas jumpers on Friday then pick them up early

*

Then the week before Christmas will come to an end

Thank God for wine, a reliable friend

Well done to all parents who shared in this plight

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night

Elf2
Our elf  is a right bastard
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