My Nightmare Before Christmas!

A Recurring Nightmare...
I've been having this dream for years...it's Christmas Eve and I haven't decorated the house or purchased any presents.  It's 5:30 p.m. and Wal*Mart closes at 6:00.  I race around the store trying to find a pair of pink Hello Kitty pajamas that will fit my youngest daughter, but there are no pajamas to be found.  I can't find anything for my husband or little boy Greg. I'm desperate!  I go home and try to decorate the tree.  Nothing works.  I wake up covered in sweat and drowning in guilt.  I don't know why I dream this...I've always been prepared...sometimes weeks in advance.  But I still have this fear of having to buy all my gifts at a convenience store. A few years ago I wrote a poem about it in the hopes of driving the dream away.

My Nightmare Before Christmas...

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town

Merchants were closing their little shops down.

The K-Mart employees were snug in their beds

While visions of clearance sales danced in their heads.

As George snored on the couch (It's a Wonderful Life!)

I assembled the toys like a dutiful wife.

When inside my head there arose such a clatter,

George stirred in his sleep, mumbling "Hey, what's the matter?"

Away to the bedroom I flew like a flash,

Grabbing my coat and my car keys and cash.

Because what to my wondering eyes did appear?

"All the presents I bought for the In-laws aren't here!"

I knew I had better provide for them quick,

Since my husband has never been known as "St. Nick."

More rapid than eagles my Minivan came,

And I sobbed and I shouted and called them by name.

Convenience Store Gift Ideas:

Little Tree Fresheners are Festive!

"Now K-Mart!  Now Kohlers!  Now dear old Fred Meyer!

On A-1 Appliance where I once bought a dryer!"

From the end of the town to the end of the mall,

I dashed away, dashed away, checking them all.

Like a psychic who sees her own doom from afar,

When I meet with an accident...got out of my car.

I had parked on the asphalt in front of the door

Of the only open convenience store.

And then in a twinkling I heard from the back,
A voice bellow "Shut up yer barkin', Jack!"
As I opened the door and was looking around,
From the backroom a humanoid came with a bound.

He was dressed all in black from his head to his foot,
And I swear that a knife had been stuck in his boot.
Two six-packs of Coors was what he was packing,
And he looked like a biker with I.Q. points lacking.

Tasty and Individually Wrapped for Stocking Stuffing Convenience.

His eyes, they were bleary.  He didn't have dimples.

His cheeks were quite grimy, his nose covered with pimples.

His mean little mouth was drawn up in a sneer.

And the beard on his chin wasn't shaved in a year.

The butt of a cigar was clenched tight in his teeth,

And the smoke smelled just like an old outhouse...Good Grief!

He had six tattoos and a protruding belly

That jiggled obscenely.  My word was he smelly!

The gift you can only rent...not buy!

George likes these in his stocking.

He was surly and mean, not a jolly old elf.

And I shook when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twitch of his head,

Soon made me suspect I had plenty to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went back to his work,

Stocking the cigarettes, then turned with a jerk.

(I'll try to finish as fast as I can...)

Grabbing my stuff, out the door I ran.

Jack?

He sprang to his feet, to his dog gave a whistle.

It was too busy gnawing a deer leg with gristle.

Yet I heard him exclaim ere I sped out of sight,

"It was just a bad dream!  Merry Christmas!  Goodnight!"

I've been feeling unprepared...those lost sick days!  LOL!

Note:  Pictures courtesy of Google Images