Jingle bells,
Christmas smells.
The turkey's bubbling.
The skittish kids are bouncing off the walls all round the room.
The sugar rush is toxic.
Makes them buzz real quick.
The presence of Christmas and Christmas presents.
Tidily stacked under the tree.
For a minute or three.

Mum is flapping passion.
More than the once flapping turkey's wings ever could.
Dad he's supping from his can.
It's Christmas time and he's a man.
Gets away with ******.
Every year he always does.
He sits there getting pickled.
While mum fights with the oven gloves.

With bloated face and rosy cheeks he screamed at her.
"Hurry up, I'm hungry."
You would think he hadn't eaten for weeks.
Sanctimonious twerp.

Mother beautifully dished up dinner for her brood of starving youth.
Instead of dishing the same up for dad, she dished up something really bad.
Slices of turkey covered in gravy.
Designed to burst his pompous bubble.
Enough's enough she thought to herself
Traces of spicy gravy, covered his designer stubble.
Half a tub of chilli powder had laced the gravy on his plate.
Cooked to absolute perfection.
Obviously, to enhance the wonderful flavour.
And mum said, " it's a new recipe, I fetched it from a magazine".
Something only mama knew.
The children enjoyed their Christmas dinner.
Mum chuckled to herself after scoring a winner.
And dad did the dishes with his fiery tail firmly stuck between his legs
(C) Livvi