posted by keauxgeigh at 1:29 AM

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

 

Tradition in your pants

This had to be done in your pants.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse in your pants.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there in your pants.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads in your pants.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap in your pants.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter in your pants.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash in your pants.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below in your pants.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer in your pants.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick in your pants.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, DASHER in your pants! now, DANCER in your pants! now, PRANCER and VIXEN in your pants!
On, COMET in your pants! on CUPID in your pants! on, DONDER and BLITZEN in your pants!
To the top of the porch in your pants! to the top of the wall in your pants!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all in your pants!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too in your pants.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof in your pants.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound in your pants.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot in your pants.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack in your pants.

His eyes -- how they twinkled in your pants! his dimples how merry in your pants!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry in your pants!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow in your pants.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath in your pants.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly in your pants.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself in your pants.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread in your pants.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk in your pants.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose in your pants.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle in your pants.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT IN YOUR PANTS!"