It's the most frightening time of the year

It's the most frightening time of the year
There'll be toddler fit throwing
And shaking head “no” ing
When Santa comes near
It's the most frightening time of the year

There'll be cocktail party invitations for declining
Crying and whining
And complaining because there’s no snow
There'll be scary Elf on the Shelf stories
And tales of the glories of
Drunken Christmases long, long ago (before we all had children)

It's the scare-scariest season of all
With some tushy beatings and clenched-teeth meetings
And tantrums at the mall
It's the scare-scariest season of all

 

PS - Don't feel too badly for M. She dried those tears up approximately 2.3 seconds after we got off Santa's lap. No severe emotional damage done.