'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and
we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."
The children were quiet (not
asleep) in their beds, while Dad
and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's
town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes, my heart
skipped a beat....
let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute
returns or replacement;
if we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes
should appear,
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
with each part numbered and
every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the
parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist
it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to
the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew
for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy all
Christmas Eve night
with "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept
bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the
night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in
the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just
before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the
holiday ring,
and not have to run to the store for a thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys
are all set
for the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet
repose I gratefully went,
though I suppose there's something to say for those
self-deluded.....
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES
are never included!
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