The Day After Christmas

‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
I woke in my bed, and relished the feel
Of luxurious soft sheets colored lovely blue teal.

I languished and smiled as I savored soft linen.
I pulled a deep stretch and then purred like a kitten.

I eased from the bed and crept soft to the door,
Then exited gently to search and explore.

The house felt so peaceful. I heard not a sound.
No screaming of children nor fighting around.
No hustle or bustle, no clamor of toys,
No shouts and no rush, all absence of noise.

The hum of the fridge whispered words of temptation
And after a moment of brief hesitation
I opened its door, and oh what a sight,

Of leftover treats,
Of joy and delight,
Of cakes and meats and salads and pies.
Concoctions galore.
A feast for my eyes.

My conscience woke up and I bopped it aside.
It’s time to be naughty. I reached deep inside.

I made a ham sandwich and piled it real high
With fried egg and slab bacon and grilled cheese on rye.
A big slice of cake and some ice cream topped pie,
I ended with crackers and brie on the side.

I then heard a noise, and turned right around.
My spouse had awoken and I had been found.
He giggle-laugh-cackled, then pointed at me
And he said, “You’re so priceless, I love you, honey.”