A Christmas Story
By: Veda G. Rooks
While volunteering my time at the local orphanage and all the other places that will get me back in Santa’s good graces I was forced to read Christmas stories until my eyeballs bled. OK so really – I have a little eight-year-old brother named Owen who is learning to read. It is much easier (and less time consuming) for me to just run through a book instead of listening to him sound out each syllable.
Considering it is that time of year and it really is in my best interests to be kind to the lad and of course I am truly generous by nature – I thought “why not read to the kid the stack of Christmas books he is carrying around in his fat little hands I did tell him that if I was going to take the time to read to him that he had to follow along and at least look at the words as I went; thus giving the boy an overall learning experience and earning him a check on his take home reading practice sheet.
Just to see if he was following along or if he had checked out I figured I would revamp the old (and very boring and stuffy) “Twas the Night before Christmas” poem (for the better…because, frankly, it can’t get much worse) and get his feedback. It could use a little “updating”. How sweet of me (this is me crossing off my good deed for 2010). It went something like this:
Twas the night before Christmas and we watched Jersey Shore
there wasn’t a person who wasn’t fist pumping while watching those wh***s
The gem encrusted stockings hung by the Plasma with patience
tomorrow kids would stick their sausage fingers down them, for they were so anxious.
Looking for chocolates and cookies to toss down their gaping pie holes
What happened to apples and oranges? These kids don’t need any more sweet rolls.
The ankle-biters wouldn’t sleep a wink that night
Certainly not while Saint Nick was in flight
Visions of iPods and Mercedes danced in their violence filled brains
while hopped up on starchy foods; sugar coursed through their veins.
Every child will sleep with one eye open waiting for the Fatty to come down the chute
with his skyscraper sized belly and hideous red suit.
He’ll laugh his trademark Freddy Krueger laugh and wiggle his bulbous nose
and out of the great dark sky a giant sack of toys will have arose
He’ll throw some wrapped pieces of dollar store junk under the tree
Because you know everyone flies around giving toys out for free…
After hogging down the milk, and eating every crumb of every treat
He’ll somehow get his obese butt back UP the chimney to his reindeer fleet
Up on the roof his famous sleigh will await
I don’t understand how those over worked animals could possibly pull the fat neck’s weight
With his giant man voice and big old cheeks
Santa Clause will call out all the reindeer names with loud shrieks
“On Thrasher, Cancer, Enhancer, Fixin”
“On Vomit, Stupid, Dishonor and Steve”
With as much magic as they can muster they set the sleigh in motion
His hopped up hoopdy clamoring with lots of commotion.
away they all flew like a G6 in flight
I heard him exclaim as he sipped sizzurp into the night
Merry Christmas to ya’ll and to ya’ll a good fight!
It was at this moment that my darling, precious little teddy bear of a brother looked at me and said “wow Ved, you’re dumb, you can’t even read”. Apparently the dear child was paying attention after all.
With that I can only add dear readers as I type my fingers to the bone, eight year old brothers are something I can’t condone.
