Five Days Until Christmas

Five days until Christmas, when all through the house I searched for my laptop — where is that danged mouse? The stockings were hung from the old deer rack, But I couldn’t find scotch tape, not even a gift sack.

The married kids were nestled all snug in their beds, And I did not need visions of that in my head. I sipped on a hot toddy, ate a cookie or two, Looked around in wide wonder — I had so much to do.

I stumbled to bed, thinking, Tomorrow’s the day. I’ve still got some time… there must be a way. The shopping, the planning, the cooking to do — Just thinking of it all was turning me blue.

When suddenly next door there arose such a clatter, I leapt from my bed to see what was the matter. And what to my wondering eyes should appear But my neighbor with a gun, acting all queer.

Shouting and screaming as he waved it around, “Those danged squirrels — I’ll hunt them all down!” I leaned out my window and let out a scream, “How dare you! You’re mean — mean, mean, mean!”

He pointed his gun with a wild little glare, “Stay out of this… or it’ll be warfare!” But then down the street came a cruiser so bright, Black‑and‑white flashing, sirens alight.

He dropped his gun fast, looking frantic and sick, Threw up his hands and surrendered real quick. More rapid than eagles those officers came — He stomped and he swore, the squirrels he did blame.

They cuffed him and stuffed him and hauled him away, And I heard him still crying, “This is so not my day!” I leaned out my window and couldn’t help but shout, “You better not cry, you better not pout…

’Cause Santa Claus is coming… to town — And that’ll teach you to hunt my poor squirrels down!”