'Twas the Night Before Christmas in the Great Pacific NorthWet

Just a silly bit I wrote this morning at 3 am. I don't write much humor, but thought I'd give it a try.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and I couldn't sleep,

Which was par for the course, cuz I hate counting sheep;

So I was up, stirring, all through the house,

Disturbing the cat, and the dog - and the mouse!

We haven't a chimney, so no stockings were hung,

And I had to be quiet -- no carols were sung;

My husband was sleeping, alone in the bed,

With his dreams and his wishes all stuffed in his head.

So I sat up alone, with the cat on my lap,

Remembering little things, (this-es and that-s);

And wishing that loneliness wasn't my friend,

And that this Christmas Eve would soon come to an end...

When out on the lawn, I heard a strange sound,

So I peeked through the window - and guess what I found?

A family of bandits! Marauders! Raccoons!

All making merry beneath the full moon.

No snow on this Christmas, so lovely and white,

No sleighs swooshing by in the sweet Christmas night;

But these waddling raccoons, with their so-human hands,

And their little "chirrips", just made the night grand.

So I opened the door, on a Christmas-y whim,

And invited the whole little crowd to come in;

And wonder of wonders, they did come inside,

Hands holding each other, and eyes opened wide.

There were eight of them (really!), big ones and small,

And they didn't seem frightened or skittish at all;

But stared at the cat, and nosed at my feet,

And acted as though they were glad we could meet.

I had no Christmas tree, nor cards on the shelf,

But the smallest raccoon looked like a wee elf;

With his pert little ears, and his twinkling eyes,

I was tempted to give him a piece of my pie. 

So I went to the larder and pulled out a slice,

And set it down near him (it looked pretty nice!);

But I had forgotten what all raccoons do -- 

The cat's water dish was on the floor, too.

And that dear little imp, just as he'd been taught,

Carried the pie to the water, and "plop!"

Right in it went, and suddenly wet,

It couldn't be rescued, though he tried his best.

He looked at the mess, and then looked at me,

And I knew I was in for it now (dearie me!);

His whole family turned, they gave me their backs,

And went straight out the door, which closed with a crack! 

So while the cat glared, I wiped up the mess,

Put clean water back in her bowl, nice and fresh;

Got one more slice of pie, this one for me,

And thought of my strange little weird Christmas Eve.

No party, no fam'ly, no lights, and no singing,

Nothing to tell me that Yule bells were ringing;

But a special delight, on one silent night,

When an odd little guest made me smile.

And deep in my heart, I heard a voice say,

"Merry Christmas to All, the Great NorthWet Way!"