The Night Before Christmas: Doose and Moose Edition

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a gadget was stirring, not even a mouse.
Two stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
as bait to lure old St. Nicholas there.

The phones and computers were plugged in and fed,
While books on their shelves rested thoroughly read.
And I in my ’kerchief, and Moose in his cap,
Had set up the camera for our truth-telling trap.

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

The moon on the crest of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to his glaring eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

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

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Let’s get in that house and just take it all!”

The well-practiced creatures, trained just for this task,
Soared upward as old Santa donned a black mask.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh of filched toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, we heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As Moose drew in his head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in red sweats, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
An empty bundle of bags he had flung on his back.
He was naught but a burglar, just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
As he assessed our belongings for things he could carry.
His cruel little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he clenched tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a sheath.
He had a broad face and a boulder-like belly,
That shook when he laughed, as he eyed our new telly!

He was chubby and plump, a right crafty old elf,
And I smiled when I saw him, in spite of myself.
For I knew that we had him, that jocular thief,
And the fall of this icon would be swift and brief.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
filled his bags with our stuff, then turned with a jerk.
Moose sprang from the bedroom to confront the old man,
And guilty Nick fled, all according to plan.

We grinned at each other, the night so rewarding.
We’d caught him red-handed—all on recording!
Moose yelled out the window, as Nick drove from sight,
“Boohoo to all, and to all a good night!”