'Twas the night before Christmas at Lakes Shopping Mall, The tableau was set up in the main entrance hall, The speakers all blared out the carols and jingles, And all the store-fronts were festooned with gold tinsel.
The galleries glittered with baubles and foil, The shop greeters wished people goodwill, peace and joy, Santa's Grotto was busy - the last chance to see That jolly old fat guy upon Christmas Eve.
Bright-lit store windows showing bargains galore, Enticed last-minute shoppers right into the store, Mothers fought hand to hand for the year's special toys, Kids covered their ears to drown out all the noise.
The baby was shrieking, the toddler was screaming, The floors of the mall were now crowded and teeming, With people out shopping - their very last chance, To snap up a bargain - they thronged there like ants.
The gift-wrapping desk was doing brisk service, The in-store detectives looked worn out and nervous, As though expecting a troupe of sled-driving elves, To ram-raid the windows and empty the shelves.
Emotions ran high and the tempers were fraught, Shoppers all jostled and crowded and fought, Filling their bags with those last-minute buys, Competing contestants all after some prize.
Some things from the jeweler, some silk scarves and scents, For women; socks, sweaters and ties for the gents; Candy for kiddies, GI Joe for the boys, Barbies for daughters and other neat toys.
"Where is Buzz Lightyear?" I asked a fraught elf, She sighed as she pointed out shelf after shelf, But the shelves were all empty, long since stripped bare, By all the parents who'd beaten me there.
There were boxes of chocolates, Champagne for the toasts, "All tree lights half-price!" one store window boasts, "Mom can't we go home yet?" the five year old pleads, "I'm fed up and staaaarving and I gotta go pee!"
Packed escalators and music full blast, I swear that this Christmas is worse than the last, A long-suffering fairy all dressed up in red, Points out the washrooms, pats Tom on the head.
"Mom, that fairy hit me!" the five year old squalls, Away from a trimmed tree the toddler is hauled, My pantyhose ruined, my hair in a mess, I'll be glad when it's over - I sure need the rest.
"Wanna see Santy," the toddlers insists, And pummels my thigh with both infant fists, The music is sickening, all schmaltzy, too loud, Volume on high to compete with the crowds.
The five year old shoplifts some candies with skill, I run over some guy's foot with the stroller's front wheel, Quick, time to escape before I have to explain, To a Lakes Mall detective 'bout Tom's ill-gotten gains.
Eight plastic reindeer and a fake wooden sleigh, Are blocking the concourse, slap-bang in our way, "Mom - which one's Rudolph?" inquire the boys, While baby goes goggle-eyed at the sight of the toys.
"I wanna horsey," the toddler entreats, His face pink and sticky from candies and sweets, Baby just screams, getting tired and fractious, Mom feels like screaming, just tired and anxious.
So I head for the door and I shout, in a huff: "That's it, we're going home - your mom's had enough!"
