“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
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