Reciting the night before Christmas

Hi, Amy. Okay, you only have a couple of days left before you recite the poem The Night Before Christmas to the family you live with in the 19th century. How are you coming along with it? Are you practicing it right now?

Well, it looks like you're slowly getting to it. It's quite a bit to memorize, right? Do you think you'll know it all by heart by Christmas Eve?

Oh, c'mon. Let me hear what you've memorized so far. No, I insist. Spit it.

'Twas the night before Christmas, 
when all through the house,
I can hear creatures stirring - OMG there's a mouse!
The stockings are hung by the chimney with care,
Knitted, not store-bought, and stinky, I swear.

Uh, Abby ... I don't think these are the right words.

When out on the lawn I hear such a clatter,
I spring from my bed, 
WTF is the matter?

Um, Abby ...

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Shines like it's daytime, 
Can I sleep?
That's a NO!

Okay, I think you might want to stop this silliness now ...

Away to the window I fly like a flash,
Open the shutters, 
Yeah, I'm acting too rash.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But eight smelly reindeer,
and no reason to fear.

Ahuh. You're doing this to bother me, aren't you?

With a little old driver,
so lively and quick,
Well, duh, I'm not stupid,
I know it's St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
so I scream out the window and call them by name:
Now Dasher! and Dancer! and Rudolph(?) and Vixen!
That's all I remember - Oh yeah, there's a Blitzen!

You're a bit of a strange nut, Amy.

To the top of the porch! 
To the top of the wall!
Santa, stop staring,
I'm wailing, that's all.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
Santa's says, "Shhh". 
Why, Santa. Why?

Yeah, well I'm just about to tell you the same thing.

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
afraid of my screaming, 
I guess I'd be too.
And then, in a twinkling, I hear on the roof,
a bunch of hooves dancing, some snorting and woofs.

Ahuh.

As I draw in my head
and I'm turning around,
Santa falls down the chimney and sits on the ground.
He is dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
and he tells me to stifle or he'll give me the boot.

Okay, maybe you should stop now.

A bundle of toys he has flung on his back,
But you've stuck me in the 19th century,
so there's no phone in his sack.

Very funny. But you do realize that time is running out for you to memorize the actual The Night Before Christmas. I'll be checking in with you on Christmas Eve to see how you do.


Yes, I totally understand that it's a work in progress. I think the family you live with will be thrilled to hear you recite this amazing poem. And I'm sure it will turn out to be a heartwarming and wonderful event.