Hi everyone, and welcome to my 53rd crap poem as part of the COPE campaign.
This will probably be my last Christmas themed poem this year, so I’m going out with a bang (sort of). I wrote this while considering how stressful Christmas has become in our home, and the stress seems to be fixated exclusively on me and my partner. Our daughter is, without question, experiencing the most wonderful time of the year and can’t stop herself from mentioning it in every conversation.
I wondered when my Christmas magic disappeared, and as a result this poem was born.
It’s meant as a bit of fun, but please remember that if you or someone you love is struggling with anxiety, stress or any other mental health concern, there are lots of helpful support lines and organisations you can contact for help on my mental health and suicide prevention support lines page.
Here’s the poem. I hope it provokes some memories of old Christmases for you!
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What happened?
Eight-year-old, Steph flew downstairs.
Poised to make her strike.
Christmas wrapping was her foe.
‘Neath the tree, a shiny bike.
10 years later, getting drunk.
Christmas day was spent hungover
At 4 pm we start again.
Our snacks were cold leftovers.
Another decade, yet more change.
‘Cause now we are the parents.
December brings a daily stress.
Respect for my descendants.
Every bauble carefully placed
Can never be done right
When six-year-olds are trying to ‘help’
Tree-time becomes a fight.
Online shopping, click and pay.
Much easier for gifting.
But I miss out on festive chair.
And it’s harder to be thrifting.
They’ll wrap them for you, if you want.
Another chore that’s gone.
But wrapping gifts was once a joy.
While hearing Christmas songs.
Baking Mum‘s old recipes
Of shortbread laced with icing.
But children’s blobs of sugared snot
Don’t make mums bakes enticing.
At least the fire alarm gets a test
As roasties start to burn.
Somehow, the turkeys undercooked
and sauce is on the turn.
By the time it’s Boxing Day
This Mum has had enough.
Plans for Joy are tossed aside
I’m a woman in a huff.
What happened to my festive cheer?
Where has the season gone?
Will parents ever get it back?
Or is our Christmas done?
December Gooch drags on and on.
Glum limbo lasts five days.
Already, but I’ll be hoping that
next year, our Christmas slays.
Resolutions ain’t my bag
I’m now a New Year’s sleeper.
My only wish is retail sales
to make next Christmas cheaper.
**********
Remember if you need more distractions then there are more jokes on my Hold Humour page, as well as haikus on Haiku Hope, awful poems on Crap Poems and odd language in Weird Words. I also have a page dedicated to stress hacks and other ideas to try if you need a distraction within the COPE campaign section of this website.
Thanks for visiting 🌲
Creative Steph 