'Twas the Night Before Katdishmas

Dear Katdish,

I wrote (changed the words of) a poem for you!
Sorry/Your're Welcome!
And if I get in trouble from my
A. Mother
B. Grandpa and Grandma
C. Pastor
D. All of the above
for using words like "ho" and "skank," I'm blaming you for being a bad role model...

**If you read my blog via facebook and aren't familiar with my "blog friends" this post will probably make very little sense to you. But you can always visit the blog of my friend Katdish and get in on the hilarity! While you're there, tell her to have a great birthday! And tell her that I do NOT want any stupid Bratz dolls!**


Twas the night before Katdishmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except a computer mouse.
The stockings were thrown in a box without care,
In hopes that the laundry fairy soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in MY bed,
While visions of skank fairies danced in their heads.
And Frank in his fauxhawk, and I in my Snuggie,
Had just settled our brains when the baby needed a Huggie...

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I started to trudge,
Tore open the shutters but the windows wouldn't budge.

The moon on the tassles of the Indiana corn,
Was much like the moon of the cheese buttler of porn.
When, what to my wondering eyes- Sweet Baby Dingos!
But an SUV, and eight tiny flamingos!

With a twitter ho driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it wasn't St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Oswald! now, Redneck! now, Shiny and Slanky!
On, Buddy! On, Boz! on Jeffro, on Skanky!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! On to Skymall!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So into my driveway, the flamingos flew,
With the car full of Crap, and Katdish too.

And then, in a second, I heard on the walk,
The loud boisterous voice of somebody's talk.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
In my front door Katdish came with a bound.

She was dressed in her pjs, from her head to flip flops,
And her clothes were all tarnished with paint drippy drops.
A bundle of Crap she had flung on her back,
(Don't make her bend over, you might see her crack.)

Her eyes-how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her wrath quite scary!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
She may get sarcastic, but she never will lurk.

She brought us together from the blog SCL,
Sometimes she is deep, ponders heaven and hell.
She annoys famous pastors and promotes with the best,
She's made Billy Coffey a one-woman quest!

She encourages me more than I'll ever tell,
And I snorted when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
Filled our hearts with Jesus, then turned with a smirk.
She fights for the helpless and champions the weak;
She is my fellow church planter...yet calls me a geek.

She sprang to her car, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ‘ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Katdishmas to all, and to all....Hey Look a Chicken!"