Another Curmudgeonly Christmas

A little boy out in the cold,

Up on the great north plain,

Stood watch through a snowstorm

And stayed out in the rain

In hope of seeing Santa fly

And heaven's child reign.

The lad kept up his vigil,

Through changing Christmas breezes,

And made hopeful lists and prayer

In defiance of diseases.

He breathed soft words of thanks and praise

In between the sneezes.

By early dawn he heard some bells,

Like those rung through the ages

"I've been good the whole year long,"

The child coughed through fever's rages,

"Ho ho ho!," a flying elf replied,

"But now you are contagious!"

The little fellow was rewarded,

As the sleigh sped o'er night's vault,

With Santa's middle finger

And a fat elf's cursed assault:

"If Christmas spreads the pox this year,

It's little Dougie's fault!"

NOG, n. The blended deprivation of calf, chick and Australian.