'Twas my fright before Christmas and all through the house

I'm aggravated and angry and fussing at my spouse.

The stockings aren't hung by the chimney with care.

They're packed away but I don't know where.

The children aren't nestled all snug in their beds

They have their own families and decent homesteads.

Gifts clutter the table as they wait to be wrapped

And oh how I'd love a long winter's nap.

I gaze at the monitor with a blank stare

With hopes that a column will appear in thin air.

When out on the lawn I heard such a clatter

I sprang from my desk to see what's the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Falling over the treadmill and giving my toe a smash.

Although it was dusk and the sun didn't glow,

The brilliance of flood lights gave luster below.

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But an ATV and some fake reindeer.

The middle-aged driver was lively and quick,

But he didn't look anything like Saint Nick.

More rapid than eagles his four-wheeler flew,

And the ladder flipped out before he knew.

“What are you doing?” I yelled with glee.

“I wanted more lights on the dogwood tree.”

He was dressed in his jeans and his Tech sweatshirt,

Covered in pine needles and, yep, some dirt.

As he left the four-wheeler and started his climb,

I couldn't help loving that man-of-mine.

A bundle of lights rested over his back,

And his hands were carrying a green cord rack.

His eyes how they twinkled and his grin so merry,

But watching him on the ladder was kind of scary.

“I thought you were Santa, that jolly old elf,”

I said with a laugh, in spite of myself.

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

He was back with the manger-the Christ child's bed.

The driveway he lined with lights galore,

Then he went to his shed to get some more.

Out in the yard, there continues the clatter

And there goes the hubby with a taller ladder.

I hear the four-wheeler make another trip.

I look out the window and our whole hill is lit.

No doubt about it, the meter is racing.

I can only imagine the bill we are facing.

Then he sprang to his truck and gave me a whistle

Pulling out of the driveway stirring up the thistle.

What's that he's saying as he roars out of sight,

“I'm going to town for more lights.”

Yes, it's almost Christmas and I'm feeling stressed,

But in spite of it all, I really feel blessed.

For his child-like spirit is a pleasure to behold,

And the joys of Christmas should never grow old.

So I'll end this column and offer a prayer,

That the Peace of the Season will fill the air.

May your Christmas be merry and your spirits bright,

With or without the glow of LED light.

Reckon there's any chance Santa would leave a check for the electric bill? Knott Much.