Bah. Humbug.

Santa on a plane

Twas the morning of Christmas, and all o’er the land

Was a blanket of white snow, the height of twelve hands.

I brushed off the car with a frustrated grunt

As my fingers went numb and the snow was in lumps.

They clung to the car with the grip of a mule

And I fretted to self that this just wasn’t cool.

We trekked to the airport in the last dark of night

Hoping all would be well with our twosome of flights.

But the plane sat around, all too heavy with ice,

And we missed the connection, now our twosome was thrice.

We saw Spokane and Utah, we spied cities galore,

From Chicago to New York and the cold eastern shore.

With Susanne in her kerchief and I in my cap

There was no settling in for any sort of nap.

What a Christmas to spend in the bland airports four,

But we fin’ly arrived and were traveling no more.

The sibling was nestled all comf in her bed,

Her daughters conversant of sugar plums instead.

We sat in the hot tub and talked of the clatter,

And we knew once again that the chaos did not matter.

I looked to the sky for Santa’s red sleigh,

Saw the stars twinkling at me and thought back on the day.

While Delta was there to annoy us and suck,

The people we love are a source of good luck.

So we rise up and cheer at the end of this night,

Merry Christmas to all and to all a safe flight!