'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Art-Deco Revival Garden-syle House,
Not a creature was stirring, most certainly not a mouse.
The Martha Stewart inspired stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
Designed by our friend, TJ, who had quite a flair.


The children were nestled all snug in their Vera Wang beds,
While visions of low-carbed, organic treats danced in their heads.
And Bruce in his silk Abercrombie and Fitch, and I in my C's,
Had just settled down to plan our winter trip to the Key's.

When out in the garden there arose such a noise,
I sprang from my bed to yell at the boy's.
Away to the window, to see whom it might be,
But not before pausing the episode of "Glee"

The moon on the beautifully tended garden of flowers,
It even shone on the roses climbing the towers.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than club kids his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his front to his back,
His clothes, there’s no doubt, were all off the rack!
A make-over was needed, and not just a quickie,
But he was a mess, and this would be very tricky!

His eyes-how they twinkled! But those glasses where too old.
His outfit was ill-fitting and made him look cold.
He desperately needed to get in the gym,
But even before that, his beard needed a trim!


He was chubby and plump, but not really a bear,
And I laughed when I saw him, but tried not to stare!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
But I told him straight off, I was already wed.

Legally speaking, it was called Civil Union,
But it was all we could do until it was proven,
That we lived the same life as the straights,
We still loved each other, there were no debates.


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger alongside a long scroll,
And giving a nod, (wow, he looked like a troll).

He unraveled the pages and grinned a big grin,
And started to read me the language within,
I started to cry and then I jumped up and down
And woke up the Poms who barked at this clown!
He read me the paper and as I started to yell,
It’s the end of Don’t Ask, and Yes! Even Don’t Tell!