"Twas the night before Christmas," no time for escaping,
The cutting and folding, the wrapping and taping.
The stockings were flung on the floor without care,
They were dirty and dingy, and worse for the wear.
The children were wild and bouncing off beds,
As sugar-plum rushes went straight to their heads.
My Babe, in her bathrobe and I in my tee,
Were tired and touchy and yearned to be free.
When just at that moment an odor arose,
That gave me the chills as it filled up my nose.
I sprang from my seat up the stairs with a bound,
I searched and I sought and I looked all around.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a pillar of smoke rising up from the tree.
I thought of the children and called out their names,
Then cursed at the tree as it burst into flames.
'Come Rona, come Sophie, come William and Wyatt,
Leave all your things children, don't even try it.
Out past the porch and down to the drive,
Now run away, run away, run for your lives!
The fire extinguisher, that's what I need'
I said, as I fled with the greatest of speed.
As brave as a soldier I battled the blaze
Emptied the can and was lost in the haze.
And when the smoke cleared, it wasn't so bad,
I may have embellished this story a tad.
The damage was minor, except for the tree,
Which burned to a crisp in a wisp of debris.
The gifts were all safe, but we still hadn't wrapped,
And my wife said we would just as soon as we napped.