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Christmas with the kids at home

I am no less a Christian than thee,
but let me tell you that Christmas is built upon lies.
Jesus was born, but not upon December 25,
which was a pagan holiday that needed to be conquered by recycling,
and lies, like yeast, grow with increase vigor upon their own dead.
So, it starts with a lie.
My fair wife and I raised two fine sons
who went into the world, found wives and produced children
,while we, our worldly work completed…moved into a small retirement cabin.
“I do so wish, “said my spouse one fateful day,”that the children can all come home for Christmas”.
And God heard the prayer, laughed, and granted it.
The snow started falling almost as soon as the first flock flew in.
It fell on the ice on the lake, and the brown grass and dry leaves.
It sparkled in the outdoor lights as the second flock descended and the cabin filled with life.
It turned the roads into icy trails not designed for the steep hills to the house,
and the fireplace into worshipful warmth.
One of the wives (from California, a paradise I hear)
overloaded the dryer, and it gave a sigh and died!
The boys, meanwhile, tried to fixed the downstairs’ toilet, and so we had but one.
The cabin was “too dry, too cold”,
and so the California grandchildren had to sleep in the only open room…the living room.
The Christmas Tree was decorated , breaking only two ornaments.
Under the tree, was a mound of presents for the little ones,
who greedily tallied their booty, with the others…..too many presents!
The water tank was low, and the water truck was snowed in, as was the world.
No showers, save water!
A cabin overflowing with festering personalities, isolated marooned.
With aid from God and a tow truck,
the two flocks left the old couple, with a house full of dirty dishes,
and tracked up floors .
“Ah”, said the good wife, “a Christmas at home”