Greg writes (and we all identify...):
T'was the Day After Christmas
Pondering the true meaning of the holiday
T'was the day after Christmas.
The in-laws had gone.
And out on the curb was the trash.
I pondered the piles
of crumpled debris
that cost me a mountain of cash.
The kids were complaining
about broken toys.
My wife had a throbbing migraine
and there in my bathrobe
I stood like a Scrooge
ashamed of the five pounds I'd gained.
We loaded up gifts
to return to the store.
Aunt Ethel still thinks I wear small.
The Wii game's the wrong one.
The perfume's not right.
And so we were off to the mall.
The crowds were disgusting.
The chaos unreal.
In spite of the Muzak that played,
my world was quite joyless.
The angels were mute.
And in the return line I prayed...
"Dear God, please remind me
your Son's special day
has little to do with this stuff.
Don't let me forget
that His presence means most.
The gift of Your grace is enough!"
Pondering the true meaning of the holiday
T'was the day after Christmas.
The in-laws had gone.
And out on the curb was the trash.
I pondered the piles
of crumpled debris
that cost me a mountain of cash.
The kids were complaining
about broken toys.
My wife had a throbbing migraine
and there in my bathrobe
I stood like a Scrooge
ashamed of the five pounds I'd gained.
We loaded up gifts
to return to the store.
Aunt Ethel still thinks I wear small.
The Wii game's the wrong one.
The perfume's not right.
And so we were off to the mall.
The crowds were disgusting.
The chaos unreal.
In spite of the Muzak that played,
my world was quite joyless.
The angels were mute.
And in the return line I prayed...
"Dear God, please remind me
your Son's special day
has little to do with this stuff.
Don't let me forget
that His presence means most.
The gift of Your grace is enough!"
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