THE NIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS
by Arnold Krueger
‘Twas the night after Christmas and all through the area,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the terrier.
The toys were all scattered in great disarray,
Right where the kids left them, never put things away.
To I in my P.J.’s and my wife in her gown,
The bed felt so good as we both settled down.
Then down in the playroom there arose such a din,
That I sprang from my bed, and on the chair cracked my shin.
My wife followed me out and we ran down the stair,
And into the playroom. What a sight we saw there!
The toy soldiers had gone crazy and started a war,
They had even dug foxholes into the floor.
I dodged a stray missile and then, won’t you know,
The remote-controlled tank ran right over my toe!
I let out a yell and jumped straight in the air,
While my poor frightened wife hid behind the big chair.
A model B-52 bomber circled the room,
Its jet engines screaming of impending doom.
It unleashed its deadly cargo upon the fierce battle,
And the explosion that followed….Why it made the neighborhood rattle!
I had to do something and I had to do it fast,
If there were another air strike our house wouldn’t last.
The place was a mess! All strewn with rubble,
Who would have imagined that toys could cause so much trouble?
Then I sp
