Every year I hand make a few very special Christmas cards. This year, life interfered and I didn't have the time to do it. So, here, for your holiday pleasure, is the "Twas the Night Before Christmas" explanation that I sent with the plain, boring, printed cards...
Twas the hour after closing and all through the show,
All the artists were scurrying with their boxes in tow.
All the artwork was packed into boxes with care,
In the hopes that next season there'd be more money to spare.
My artwork was nestled all snug in the car,
While visions of artists waved au revoir,
And I, all exhausted from the long weekend's show,
Was ready to head home to a glass of Bordeaux.
When out in the aisle there arose such a clatter.
Oh, no, that's me that's all splattered.
Away to the telephone she flew like a flash,
Telling the paramedics to get here, and dash!
The artists all gathered around me and said,
Are you sure you're alright? Did you get a crack in your head?
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a big slab of concrete. How I got here was unclear.
Look, a really cute guy, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, it's the paramedic.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and asked me my name.
Now, leg move. Now, hand move. Now knees and elbows.
Check fingers, check neck, check back, nose, and toes.
From my head to my toes I can stand tall,
So, back to work, back to work, back to work, all!
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And filled up my car. It's one job I can't shirk.
I had a smushed nose and a bruise on my knee,
I really could use a glass of Chablis.
My face hurt, my knee hurt, my toes and my nose,
Could I have an ice pack? I hate to impose.
I sprang to my car, to the key gave a click,
And away I drove off. Oh, my neck has a crick.
So now you know why. And that is the reason.
There'll be no fancy Christmas card from me this season.
But I still have to exclaim, before I drive out of sight,
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
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