Tuesday, December 17, 2013

                        TWELVE DAYS AND COUNTING

On the First Day of Christmas, Mr. Wonderful said to me,
“We need to cut back this year.”
(He’s kidding, right?)

On the Second Day of Christmas, I said to Mr. Wonderful,
“Do you want my list or not?”
(fat chance)

On the Third Day of Christmas, my dry cleaner said to me,
“Miss Sandra, we’ve lost your new holiday gown. We think another customer must have picked it up by mistake.”
(Like she wasn’t scoping it out when she brought in her slipcovers)

On the Fourth Day of Christmas, my daughter texted me,
“Mom, the girls all have chicken pox.”
(Of course they do)

On the Fifth Day of Christmas, my financial planner e-mailed me,
“Urgent meeting needed before January 1. Call to get in line.”

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my hairstylist voice-mailed me,
“I’m booked for the entire holiday. Sorry.”
(Can it get better than this?)

On the Seventh Day of Christmas, my dentist telephoned me,
“You missed your last appointment. You’ll have to find another provider.”

On the Eighth Day of Christmas, my butcher said to me,
“If you haven’t ordered your roast by now, you’re out of luck.”

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my step-mom telephoned me,
“I’m cutting you out of my will. My own kids love me more.”
(Of course they do)

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my oldest texted me,
“Mom, Dad’s having a knee replacement, so we won’t be having Christmas this year.”

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, my best friend e-mailed me,
“We’re moving to Qatar next week. Sorry we won’t have time to say good-bye.”
( . . . )

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my inner child said to me,
“Holidays suck.”