'Twas a Chick-fil-A Christmas
'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the home
Not a mother was stirring (yet work needed done);
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that no one would knock them off there;
The kiddos were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of Blues Clues danced in their heads;
And mama in her pjs, tired of Christmas crap,
Was in desperate need of a long winter's nap,
When out of her phone there arose such a clatter,
She unlocked her screen to see what was the matter.
Away to her Facebook she flew like a flash,
Tore open the app with a virtual dash.
People had tagged her in multiple posts,
Friends sent her messages from coast to coast,
When what to her wondering eyes did appear,
She received a sweet note from a friend so dear,
With humor & wit so lively and quick,
She knew in a moment this wasn't a trick.
More rapid than eagles she sent a reply,
And she wished, in that moment, she had waffle fries:
"Now, Friend, how I miss our Chick-fil-A dates,
On weekdays, when kids could just run off and play!
To the top of the playground! To the top of the slide!
Before Covid, when together we all could abide."
As moms that before their wild children do sigh,
When they meet with an absolute mess, though they try
To keep up with the housework, it just piles up
With the rooms full of toys, and snack trash too—
She then, in a twinkling, heard up on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As she drew in her head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Santa Cow came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his feet to his eyes,
And his clothes had the smell of chicken and fries;
A bundle of nugs he had flung on his back,
And he looked like he'd ordered a family pack.
His horns—how they twinkled! His spots, how merry!
He offered a sip of milkshake with a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the spots on his back were as white as the snow;
The stump of a chicken strip he held in his teeth,
And the steam, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he walked, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old beast,
And I laughed when I saw him, in hopes of a feast;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I should've stayed in bed;
For he spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And ate all that chicken; then turned like a jerk,
And licking the sauce aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight—
“Happy Christmas, girl - get your own chikin tonight!!”
The Night Before Christmas poem adapted by Lauren Mac
Photo by Matthew Henry from Burst