Twas the night before — the night before — Christmas and chaos persists,
There’s wrapping paper everywhere and six missing gifts.
We tear the house apart, looking for tape,
Not to mention all the bows, which made an escape.
The stocking are hung just as they say,
But the hooks are too weak to last till Christmas day.
The only old fat man around here is me,
So we gather the gifts to put under the tree.
My wife, who has done the most, heads up to bed,
And seeing all she’s done, “I love you,” I said.