‘Twas the night before Christmas in Silicon Beach L.A.,
Not a creature was stirring, thanks to DogVacay;
The wetsuits were hung by the door & with luck,
a 5am surf then hit Dawn Patrol Truck.
The children should be all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums dance in their heads.
my AmEx is missing and I’m scared for the tab.
When out on the lawn there arose such a fray,
I hit my elarm and got out pepper spray.
Ran to the window and looked to the sky,
Cracked open a window, heard the sound amplify.
Off the new-fallen snow the moon brightly shone,
Instacanvas-worthy so I grabbed my iPhone.
I expected a burglar, a drone or a bear,
Away in the distance a sleigh did appear,
greener than Tesla, ’twas powered by deer.
It must be St. Nick, but we’ve been nothing but bad,
Billy and Suzie were absolute brats,
fighting, yelling, screen-grabbing snapchats.
And I, no saint either, gave both a good smack,
the wife’s been a Nasty Gal… at least in the sack.
I sat there mentally assigning these blames,
then heard in the distance the most unusual names.
And like that they shot up, at least 30 miles north,
I figured they’d left, gone on and moved forth;
but then a thump from above, could it actually be?
Santa had come and was up on my roof,
From the fireplace, a noise and a poof;
next a thump and a bang and and an “ouch” and a boom.
I typed “injury waiver” as I searched LegalZoom.
Out he came tumbling, a mess of dust, bricks & mortar,
I considered asking St Nick to reimburse me for Porter.
A big harry man with a smile none kinder,
likely considered a “bear” if profiled in Grindr.
Cheeks all rosy like he’d come from the pub,
and clearly not a member of the Dollar Shave Club.
He spoke not a word and no time did he lag,
Somehow pulling gift after gift from his little black bag.
For me a pair of skinnies I’d seen on 20Jeans,
and a device made by Pipesicles for enjoying my greens.
Despite the wife’s dirty secrets, and closed-door sins,
The latest Beachmint styles, picked by grown Full House twins,
The kids demand media to fill their ADD needs,
After a wink and a nod, he floated up to his sled,
Gravity as relevant to him as our civil rights to a Fed.
He let out a sharp whistle and held the reigns tight,
my roof as his launchpad, they shot up into the night.
Fireworks in his wake, the sky was well lit,