To fill our time this December Sunday afternoon, Karen and I are going to write a Christmas story, alternating one line at a time. This is a first attempt at such an endeavor, so try not to judge, but you may laugh if you please. Okay, here goes. David (I) will start:
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, every body was scurrying to find the lost blouse.
They thought it'd been laid on the bed with great care. But, oh no! They looked, and the blouse was not there.
The children all looked behind each their beds, but all that they found was hair their cat shed.
But without mamma in her Christmas blouse and me in my sweater, we may as well put St. Nick in fetters.
No problem, said I, and rushed right outside, to snap up the sewing machine, my wares to apply.
Get me some glitter! and it was there in a flash. We need some bangles, buttons, a sash!
The blizzard of fabric blurred like it was snowing, till the machine stopped its humming, it finished its sewing.
When what, to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature elf with a helmet and spear!
Hey buddy! he said, Have you seen my girl Cheddar? She wanted to drive, but I wouldn't let her.
And now, I dare say, she's running around, with a splendiferous shirt she claims that she found.
Then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, the miniscule grunting of a little girl's, "ooph."
And then with a tumble, she fell at our feet in the sparkliest blouse you ever will meet.
The glitter--how it twinkled! The bangles, how merry! The sash curled like roses, the button a cherry.
It's found! cried I. The slippery blouse! And so I invited those rascally elves in the house.
The elf sprang to his feet with helmet and spear, and from our backyard was heard a great cheer:
Merry Christmas to all, let's have some root beer!
