“It’s time to string the lights!”
Is the phrase I dread the most
I can handle the shopping, and wrapping, even playing the congenial host
But when the tree is standing ready, its boughs so regal, yet bare
I know my family lives to observe the further greying of my hair
What began as one small string has grown to fill a box
That could easily be used to house a cart pulled by an ox
Beginning oh so patiently, I strive to find the end
I remind myself that it is really only ONE NIGHT I will spend
Wrestling with a ball of wire just to please the little nippers
Who don’t realize I could finish much quicker if I had a pair of snippers
The harder I work, the bigger the mess taking over our living room floor
One by one, I see the family disappear through the dining room door
It’s just me and them now, those little holiday twinkles
And I plot a cunning strategy, my determined brow wrinkles
Slowly, it begins to dawn, a plan so simple and sweet
I have the power to stop this madness, in my leather covered feet
First, I rise quietly and pace about the room
Then I slip into the closet and fetch myself the broom
I sweep the teeny, tiny pieces into a paper sack
Then yell as I run out the door, “In a minute, I’ll be back!”
Off to the store I race with but one goal in sight
To enjoy the beauty of our tree without wasting another night
Hundreds of little boxes are waiting there for me
Each with a die cut cardboard holding instant brilliance for our tree
My laughter is easy and free, as I slide through the parking lot
Let those tiny twinkles get me down any longer… I think not
For I vow that even if it means buying stock in the company
From this point forward, every year, we’ll put brand new lights upon our tree!
(c) 2016 Annette Rochelle Aben
Annette Rochelle Aben 