By Connie Swinney
'Twas 12 days before Christmas and all through the town,
Not a creature was ready for what was to go down.
All I could see was a glazed look in their eyes.
Like a deer caught in headlights. No smile disguise;
“Are you ready for Christmas?” I say to be merry;
She turned with a jerk and a glare that was scary.
There's always a pause and a quizzical stare.
“Why no, Miss Connie!” How could I dare?
She gave me a nod as we shared nervous sighs;
Then on down the store aisle amidst toddler cries;
Wondering what drove us to wade through the crowds;
All the toys, electronics and clothing that we vowed.
The thoughts of the children all snug in their beds;
Stuffed animals and skateboards and new phones in their heads;
So with a cart full of items, to check out I go;
Whisking by carts that were moving too slow.
