Friday night I was up very late working on getting the house cleaned and all the party crafts finished for the party I was hosting on Saturday. Before heading to bed I thought about how similar my situation must be to all the lovely people out there that enjoy parties as much as I do. There is certainly a bit of a love hate relationship with all the prep and projects. Sometimes there is a sense of dread and pride all wrapped up into one confusing ball as well. I thought about posting some thoughts about the night before a party. Then, suddenly the poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas” popped into my head. I couldn’t shake it. So, out came a poem title “Twas the Night Before a Party.” I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I’d love to know what you think and what YOU go through on the night before a party!
Twas the night before a party, when all through the house
All the dishes were piling, as were the towels.
The laundry was hung on chairs and doorways with care,
In hopes that the linens would dry in the air.
The child and husband were snug in their beds,
While visions of cupcakes danced in their heads.
And mama in her slippers, drinking her night cap,
Had just settled herself in front of the tap.
She washed dishes carefully to avoid making a clatter,
But, the silverware clicked and clacked no matter.
Away to wash the window like a flash,
She noticed a spot on the floor, it grew like a rash!
The moon on her breast she sunk quite low
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the floor below.
When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a spot of grey, on her once shiny veneer.
With a little arm power, so lively and quick,
She knew in a moment it must be a trick!
More rapid than her conscience could tame,
She cursed, and shouted, and called a bad name.
The Counter, the Oven. The Stove and the Ceiling!
On knees, on stools, with tools she stayed cleaning.
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now clean away! clean away! clean away all!
She admired her work and wiped sweat from her eye
When she remembered a craft and moved with a sigh.
So up to the craft room, she had things to do
With an arm full of paper and scissors too.
And then, in a twinkling, she folded & smoothed
The paper creations just needed to be glued.
As she drew in her hand, and was taping things down
Round the paper the scissors came with a bound.
She was dressed all in cotton, from her head to her skirt,
and her clothes were all tarnished with glitter and dirt.
A bundle of decorations she had flung on her back,
And she looked like an addict, away from her crack.
Her eyes- how they twinkled! Crafts made her merry!
Her house filled with roses, her drink topped with a cherry.
Her lipstick covered mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the cheeks, with all the glitter gave quite a glow!
The glue stick she held tight in her teeth,
Her fingers tied and weaved to make a door wreath.
She had a step back to turn down the telly,
Netflix played non-stop, though she barely watched any.
She was funny and glib, with questionable mental health,
There wasn’t a party project she hadn’t tried herself.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
She reviewed her list to check for anything to dread.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work.
And filled all the favor bags, then turned with a jerk.
And laying her finger on bow after bow,
A DIY project no would else would know!
She sprang to her feet, to stretch out her body,
She reviewed her work and found it not shoddy.
But she did exclaim, ‘I do think I did all right,
“Happy Party to all, and to all a good-night!”