Since reruns are popular this time of year, I’m pulling this post out of the archives and reposting it. Enjoy!
I’m sorry Clement C. Moore, but I’m calling you out. With all due respect, there is NO way it was the night before Christmas AND “all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”
Uh, uh. No way. Not buying it.
And “the children were nestled, all snug in their beds while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads”…
Nope. I call B.S. Anyone who has young children knows this is not the way it looks nor sounds on Christmas Eve.
Here’s how it really goes down:
The children are not nestled all snug in their beds. Rather they are constantly coming out of their beds with the following quotes:
“I’m thirsty.”
“Was Santa here yet?”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Did Santa come yet?”
“Is it morning yet?”
“Where’s Santa now?”
“I forgot to give you a kiss goodnight.”
“Did Santa come yet?”
“I heard something on the roof!”
“Was Santa here?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Can I get a drink?”
And “Mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.” Nope. Don’t think so. There’s no parent who’s sleeping on Christmas Eve.
Here’s what’s really happening:
•Prepping food
•Pre-cooking food
•Cleaning
•Wrapping presents
•Assembling presents
•Removing the elves
•Swearing. Lots and lots of swearing.
So yeah, there may have been “such a clatter,” but it’s inside the house, not out.
While I appreciate the romantic notion that all was peaceful and quiet on the night before Christmas, let’s be realistic; There’s nothing peaceful about it. It’s noisy. It’s mayhem. It’s chaos.
If you were referring to the night AFTER Christmas, well then, that’d be more believable. Sheer exhaustion takes hold, and so yes, “not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse” and yes, “the children are nestled, all snug in their beds.” No one can move after thirty-six hours of no sleep.
Of course, if a woman had written the poem, it’d be a much different poem!
Let the truth be told