’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
TJ was grumbling loudly, more bear than a mouse.
He cursed at the test strip, the line stark and livid—
Because Santa stayed healthy, but TJ got COVID.
His plans were all canceled, the couch was now home base,
With tissues in surplus, NyQuil plenty in place.
The tree still stood glowing, its lights warm and thick,
But cheer came in liquid form—thank God for Knob Creek.
The only true comfort, the thing that felt right,
Was a hot toddy poured heavy late into the night.
Lemon, honey, and whiskey doing all that they might,
Holding the line ’til the Christmas morning’s light.
So Merry Christmas to all—keep your lungs clear and tight,
Wash your hands, test early, and sleep through the night.
And if sickness shows up with no warning in sight,
May there still be good bourbon, and rest come by night.
Merry Christmas to friends and to family afar,
Though I can’t see you tomorrow, you’re not very far.
Next week we’ll celebrate—just fashionably late,
Though the timing’s not great, we’ve been delayed by fate.
So Merry Christmas to all, whether near or out of sight,
And to all a good night—may the toddy hold tight.
