A Parent's Night Before Christmas

’Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the house
I searched for the tools
to hand to my spouse
Instructions were studied
and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage
"Some Assembly Required."
The children were quiet
(not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced
the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's townhouse to boot!
And now, thanks to Grandpa,
a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes,
my heart skipped a beat
- let no parts be missing
or parts incomplete!
"Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can't get it right,
it goes straight to the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions,
concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed,
only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles
the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet
they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it!
Now twist it!
Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats,
and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves,
and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby,
"you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling,
I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers
had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy
all Christmas Eve night
with "assembly required"
till morning's first light
We spoke not a word,
but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went bleary;
our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold
and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband
just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas,
without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer,
let the holiday ring,
and not run to the store
for one single thing!
We did it! We did it!
The toys are all set
for the perfect, most magical,
Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I'm grateful went,
though I suppose there's something to say
for those self-deluded-
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!