The Sappy Christmas Song Competition seems to be morphing into the Advent Venting Competition--which is great in its own way, but not sappy! Apparently Rev. Dave unwittingly tapped into your last nerve out there. QG is delighted to be of service to those of you who feel the need to vent your Advent frustrations in a safe place.
Rev. Dave sent me a new stanza so we can continue the Sappy Christmas Song tradition for those of you who are feeling the need to be snarky AND sappy.
So QG will host two Christmas song competitions: one devoted to Advent Venting and one devoted to sappiness. You can enter either competition by leaving your contribution in the comments--put your comments in the post below if you want to vent. Put them here if your Sappy Muse is whispering in your ear.
Each competition will be updated with separate posts. Open up those cans of corn, whip out your hankies and start writing! Here's the first stanza of the Sappy Christmas Song:
So QG will host two Christmas song competitions: one devoted to Advent Venting and one devoted to sappiness. You can enter either competition by leaving your contribution in the comments--put your comments in the post below if you want to vent. Put them here if your Sappy Muse is whispering in your ear.
Each competition will be updated with separate posts. Open up those cans of corn, whip out your hankies and start writing! Here's the first stanza of the Sappy Christmas Song:
~drumroll please~
Snow was softly falling, the luminarias were lit
As she sat by the window waiting for a visit
From those she loved and missed the most
Flyin' in on Christmas Eve from the coast.
5 comments:
She and her puppy had donned matching Christmas sweaters.
But as the snow began falling more heavily, she wondered about the weather.
Would her loved ones safely arrive,
And then into the eggnog, treats, & presents they would dive?
Or would they get stuck in the airport, or worse, on the road.
Would melancholy silence ring throughout her abode?
Alas, she breathed a deep sigh & nibbled a piece of fudge.
While her be-sweatered best friend gave her a loving nudge.
*crackin' knuckles to prepare*......
Her cup of hot cocoa went flying straight up
when the St. Bernard Yuley knocked over her cup,
and her prosthetic leg fell down to the floor,
as she chuckled and adjusted the oxygen she wore.
She reached for her journal to jot down a thought
and stopped to admire all the gifts that she'd bought
for uncles and aunts, cousins, nephews and a niece adopted from abroad from an orphanage in Greece.
{now we're cookin'...Dave & Kim}
As she surveyed the hot liquid she now had to mop,
She was too good-hearted to lament that she'd to hop
while dragging the spongemop out to clean up the mess,
Her plastic leg on the ground, totally useless.
That journal could wait, though her therapist wouldn't be happy.
There were more spots to clean 'cause the house looked real crappy.
Her nieces, her uncles, and her dear sainted mama,
Wouldn't be happy with this dirty house drama.
Get out the Swiffer,
and get out the Pledge.
Clean out the dust
put a shine on that ledge.
She was hopping around,
like a dervish whirling.
While outside the snow,
was drifting and swirling.
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