’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with “care,”
All stretched out and busted and gross with cat hair.
Our young son was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of Minecraft mods danced in his head;
And my man in his boxers, and I in my jams,
Hoped the kid would at least sleep ’till six, because damn.
I’d just drifted off when a cold winter breeze,
Seeped into my bones and made my ass freeze.
I woke up to see where my duvet had gone,
And found only a deflated sack going on.
The moon on the breast of my marital bed
Soon revealed what I’d already guessed in my head.
’Cuz what to my wondering eyes did appear,
The duvet cover was all I had left up in here.
I glared at my husband and his slumbering form,
And I knew in a moment he must be St. Warm.
While the thin cotton cover was all that I had,
The thick duvet itself was all bunched up on Dad.
I pushed and I pulled and I struggled around,
Attempting to hijack some precious goose down.
But the duvet had slid all the way to his side,
Which did all of jack shit to improve my Yuletide.
I whistled, and shouted, and called out by name:
“Now, Husband! Hey, Asshole! You should be Ashamed!
Yo, Douchebag! I’m Freezing! Wake up, you Big Boob!
Your nuts are all toasty, and my poon’s an ice cube!”
So up off the mattress my husband he rolled,
Cranky and griping: “This shit’s fucking old.”
And then, in a twinkling, he snapped the duvet,
Resolving the issue with manly cachet.
I thanked him profusely and we each had a pee,
Then got ready for sleep, our buns snug as could be.
But I soon heard a noise, little feet softly walking—
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! CAN I GET MY STOCKING?!”
This original piece by Sarah del Rio was written exclusively for In the Powder Room, a division of Hold My Purse Productions, LLC., and was inspired by “A Visit from St. Nicholas” (more commonly known as “The Night Before Christmas”) by Clement C. Moore. Featured image © etorres69 via depositphotos.com.