What is it about Christmas that makes me remember and reminisce so much? All of a sudden, memories of walking home in the snowbanks or wrapping Christmas presents on Mom's bed or a kitchen full of whatever we're passing out to neighbors comes flooding back. Two years ago, I went on a search for a poem I memorized in 5th or 6th grade for our Satellite Christmas program. Me and another girl got to stand by the teacher and help all the students recite it; I even have a picture of this in my scrapbook. Anyway, I found it and was so glad I did; it was way more funny now that I'm a Mom. Here it is for your enjoyment:
See Mother
See Mother. See Mother laugh. Mother is happy.
Mother is happy about Christmas.
Mother has many plans. Mother has many plans for Christmas.
Mother is organized. Mother smiles all the time.
Funny, funny Mother.
See Mother. See Mother smile. Mother is happy.
The shopping is all done. See the children watch TV.
Watch, children, watch.
See the children change their minds.
See them ask Santa for different toys.
Look. Look. Mother is not smiling. Funny, funny Mother.
See Mother. See Mother sew.
Mother will make dresses. Mother will make robes.
Mother will make shirts.
See Mother put the zipper in wrong.
See Mother sew the dress on the wrong side.
See Mother cut the skirt too short.
See Mother put the material away until January.
Look. Look. See Mother take a tranquilizer.
Funny, funny Mother.
See Mother. See Mother buy raisins and nuts.
See Mother buy candied pineapple and powdered sugar.
See Mother buy flour and dates and pecans and brown sugar and bananas
and spices and vanilla.
Look. Look. Mother is mixing everything together.
See the children press out their cookies.
See the flour on their elbows.
See the cookies burn. See the cake fall.
See the children pull taffy. See Mother pull her hair.
See Mother clean the kitchen with the garden hose.
Funny, funny Mother.
See Mother. See Mother wrap presents. See Mother look for the end of the Scotch tape roll.
See Mother bite her fingernails.
See Mother go. See Mother go to the store ten times in one hour.
Go, Mother, go.
See Mother go faster. Run, Mother, run.
See Mother trim the tree. See Mother have a party. See Mother make popcorn.
See Mother wash the walls. See Mother scrub the rug.
See Mother tear up the organized plan.
See Mother forget the gift for Uncle Harold. See Mother get the hives.
Go, Mother, go. See the faraway look in Mother's eyes.
Mother has become disorganized. Mother has become disoriented.
Funny, funny Mother.
It is finally Christmas morning. See the happy family.
See Father smile. Father is happy. Smile, Father, smile.
Father loves fruitcake. Father loves Christmas pudding.
Father loves all his new neckties.
Look. Look. See the happy children. See the children's toys.
Santa was very good to the children. The children will remember this Christmas.
See Mother. Mother is slumped in a chair. Mother is crying uncontrollably.
Mother does not look well.
Mother has ugly dark circles under her bloodshot eyes.
Everyone helps Mother to her bed.
See Mother sleep quietly under heavy sedation.
See Mother smile.
Funny, funny Mother.
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6 comments:
I love it! That is how my Christmas season is going so far, except that I never did start out organized.
i loved the part about the sewing. Even though i am not a mom I loved the poem
Love the new pictures!
The poem sounds familiar, which makes me think that was 6th grade, but I don't remember reciting a poem as a group, so maybe it was 5th grade. I have memories of the 6th grade Christmas program, but maybe because it is a traumatic memory I blocked out that part. :)
SO FUNNY! What a great poem. I remember thinking I would never be a grumpy mom around the holidays---obviously I didn't have children yet! Hope the rest of your holidays go well. Can't wait to see you!
THAT was HILARIOUS!! So funny and freakishly accurate. :) Love all your new pictures too--so cute!
Thanks for the laugh. It kept me from resorting to the sedated crying . . . I think its funny how Ryan is so stressed about purching presents for me, but cares little about all of the rest of the presents. Why is that a mom's job??
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