Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house
Were twiglets and biscuits and bottles of Grouse.
Skinny jeans were flung aside in despair,
No way she’d fit back in them this year
The children raced round high on E numbers
Whilst mummy and daddy drank Baileys from tumblers.
Presents were shoe horned, hidden under the stairs
As stocks prices rocketed in ELC shares
What once was the John Barrowman of all Christmas trees
All camp, colour co-ordinated and “LOOK AT ME!”,
Its branches now full of toy cars and crisp crumbs
Looking like Boy George dragged through the slums
Whilst stuffing her face from the Quality Streettin
With only the rubbish strawberry chocolates left in,
She cracked open the cava (this year no champers)
And dreamed of years past and Fortnum and Masons Christmas hampers
Christmas was held on a budget this year,
The Coalition forcing the Smiths into buying cheap beer.
David Cameron got fierce and angered the Europeans
Luckily Hannah liked her liquid imports from Antipodeans
The selloptape was being held tight in her teeth
The children last seen struggling beneath,
The mounds of wrapping paper, tissue and ribbons. She cursed!
Oh well, she find them Christmas day if the worst came to the worst.
Twas the week before Christmas and all through the Home
Were bookshelves a full of cookery tome.
Gordon stood dusty, relegated to yonder
Heston stood proudly, the lady of the house being fonder.
She reached for a pork pie and thought of the scales
Oh who cares she said, if I am the size of a whale!
I’ll worry about it come the new year,
And rejoin Zumba with half hearted gusto and cheer.
The boys were arguing over a girls toy pram,
Hannah’s mum gave her sister’s muslim boyfriend some ham.
But this is what Christmas is all about,
And she smiled fondly upon them….and tried not to shout.