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A Different Sort of Holiday Poem

2

January 2, 2008 by Marj Hatzell

Twas the night before New Year’s Day when all through our 3 BR 3BA twenty-year-old house castle

Not a creature was stirring, not even a Hatzell (see what I did there?)

The in-laws drove up from New Jersey with care

In hopes that the pork and sauerkraut (and fried apples and mashed taters) would soon be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of Lego Star Wars, The Complete Saga for Wii danced in their heads.

The adults retired to bed in a snap as soon as the ball dropped in the big App(le).

When next to me on the trundle there arose such a clatter I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Two feet away I flew like a comet to find BugBoy heaving and bed covered in vomit

The moon peeking threw our newly-installed window gave the luster of midday on the upchuck below.

More rapid than eagles his wretching it came, and he moaned and cried and called me by name –

“Oh Mommy, my tummy, it hurts and it’s sour!” So Vomit, Bile and Snot  came by the hour.

From the floor to the bed to the trash can and wall, he managed to make sure he covered it all.

And as the hours dragged on and we thought he was done he kept right on heaving until we saw sun.

And then, in a twinkling I heard across the hall a screaming so miserable from a child so small.

My nephew was feverish and having fit as he coughed and he cried and mucus he spit.

With the sun peeking out and shining down on the yards we realized sleeping was not in the cards.

The boys were awake and like jolly young elves and while realizing the irony we laughed to ourselves.

The coffee was hot and the tea was brewing but we knew that there was no point to our stewing

The pork roast was put in the freezer to save in case in a few days the boys would behave

We called family and cancelled our big, fancy feast and were disappointed, to say the least.

The in-laws went home as soon as they were able and we settled down to watch hours of cable.

For the rest of the day we sat in zombie-like comas.  There was no day of tempting aromas.

And just when you thought it was at it’s worst, Bugaboo decided he must come in first (in a contest of disgusting body fluids).

His diaper removed and his bowels were a mess and so was my carpet, but I will digress.

I spent hours upon hours with bleach to scrub while Bugaboo five times went to the tub.

The Laundry was caught up and everything cleaned.  The children were washed and carefully preened.

Bug Boy was due back to school today after a (much too lengthy) Holiday Vacay.

But all was for naught as he awoke in the morning with his stomach and knots and a bit of a warning:

“You can send me to school and I might be alright but may vomit more before the bus is out of site.”

So we kept him home one more day to relax and get rest and to gleefully put his mom to the test.

Her one and only resolution of being calm and collected may get thwarted and tossed and rejected.

That is, unless, she takes the little blue pill that makes her quite happy and  helps her to chill.

So our Wish for you to begin this New Year is “Have a safe and happy 365 days of good cheer beer.

If that doesn’t do it then I’ll make it right.  Happy New Year to all and to all a good night!”

2 thoughts on “A Different Sort of Holiday Poem

  1. cryssyer says:

    What’s with all this illness? My gawd!

    Nicely worded poem. Despite the references to puke and poop, it was a great read 🙂

  2. Trace says:

    Kathy gave your poem rave reviews so I thought I’d check it out. Oh DG, you and carpet shampooer are the best of friends.

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