‘Twas a month before Christmas when Oma stood in her house,
Which was vacuumed and purty, thanks – in part – to her spouse.
The carpets were cleaned by the pros with much care
Removing neat hairballs that Scout had left there.
No longer had Oma some essays to grade,
She felt rather free, and for that she hoorayed!
Opa, too, was enjoying his mini vacation,
By whacking some brush growing on their plantation.
“Ho hum,” sighed the Oma on December the fourth,
“I’d best get a tree for our kiddies, henceforth.”
But then she was fraught with lethargy and more
Dreading tree dryness plus needles, all over her floor.
And the space the evergreen must needs occupy,
The hassle of spending, and the trend to overbuy.
“Do you think they’ll all mind,” she wondered aloud,
“If we don’t buy a tree – would we be disavowed?”
“Nah,” said the Opa, who desired to please,
“We’ll still have the presents and all the goodies.”
So jumping straight in the Prius she drove, off to JoAnns
To buy all the stuffs and things, completing her plans.
When what to her jaded eyes should appear —
Empty shelves! Deep discounts! Devoid of all cheer!
“Do you have those fake garlands?” she asked of the lady.
“Eh, maybe outside in the bin!” responded she gaily.
There were just enough, even plenty for sure –
Oma’s project would work! Her plan was secure!
It took some few hours of stapling the wall –
Yet the outcome — stupendous! Surely it would enthrall!
One day after she finished, on December the five,
Came the littles all merry, into the drive.
“Oma! I’ve missed you!” cried the young Mr. Mo,
Dragging his blanket and screaming, just so.
Miss Nomi walked right in through the door,
“Why’s there a tree on your wall? What’s it there for?”
“Do you like it?” asked Oma, removing their boots,
“Yep, you can touch it, though it doesn’t have roots!”
And touched it they did, then promptly forgot
Running off to their breakfast, toys, and what not.
Letter “K” was the subject of preschool this day,
Though K’s not for Christmas, kangaroos were okay.
Also K’s not for cookies, but that didn’t matter,
Since rolling’s just fun with some peanut batter.
T’was later that evening, came there a short message
Asking plainly if Christmas could survive such abusage?
“I just received word! No real tree for this year!
And I’m worried – quite plainly – what will become of our cheer?”
That question was likely, Oma new it – indeed.
She knew he would ask, and probably plead.
“All will be well,” she answered the fellow.
“Our day be not spoiled by my artsy placebo.
Remember, my in-law, the day’s much more than a tree –
We’ll have drinks, food and presents! Some ‘specially for thee!”
His eyes, will they twinkle when he comes to our house?
Will he eat heaping prime rib portions, not wanting to grouse?
Oma thinks yes! Because sure as can be —
This one, though peculiar, is certainly NO dummy.
