Because you demand it.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Grandma's house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Of course, no one was there--we were at Mary Anne's,
A house large enough to fit the whole Johnson clan.
The children were restless, and made plenty of noise
Eager to unwrap their brand new Christmas toys.
It was getting late, also, so decision was swift,
And we all adjourned downstais to pass out the gifts.
Since the beginning of time, that job always did
Belong to our dad, helped by all little kids.
But this year, all the young kids belonged to Aunt Sue,
So she felt that the old method just wouldn't do.
"All right, let's get started!" she said with a shout.
"You big kids come over and pass the gifts out!"
She then turned away, as if the case were now shut,
We looked at Aunt Susan and then we thought... "What?"
Some of us wondered why she should decide,
While the rest searched for ingenious places to hide.
But there was one with whom this plan just wouldn't wash,
And we knew in an instant, it was going to be Josh.
He said not a word, but went straight to his beer
Intensely pretending that he didn't hear.
But not even he could ignore the new shame,
When she ordered again, and called us by name.
"Now Matthew! Now Joseph! Now Luke and now Laura!"
"Now Josh!" thereby opening a box marked 'Pandora.'
"Come get the presents from under the tree,
And distribute them to us, like, A.S.A.P.!"
Josh could have sought trouble, but chose to eschew it.
He said "No", and felt that was all there was to it.
It was not the reply on which Susan had planned.
How dare he deny her specific command?
This volatile moment Susan could have defused,
Had she listened when Josh had politely refused.
But she pressed on the matter, and ordered again,
This time with the backing of old Uncle Ken.
Sure, he'd been drinking, but you can't blame the beer
For the tendrils of smoke pouring out of his ears.
By the look on his face, scowling and rough,
I could tell that my brother had had just enough.
Once more he was asked, and once more he said "No,"
And then he told Kenny just where he could go.
Josh ripped him a new one, and Aunt Susan too.
He turned faces red as he turned the air blue.
"This is bullshit," he shouted, "the one thing that I'll pass
"Is the point of that Christmas tree, straight up your ass."
The tirade continued, not short and not sweet,
Using words even I'm too ashamed to repeat.
Josh's rant went on before all our relations,
Who bore horrified witness to his aggravation.
Their incessant badgering produced the effect
Of no gifts handed out, and one pissed-off redneck.
Some feelings were hurt, but Josh did not care;
He kept muttering curses and went up the stairs.
But I heard him exclaim, as he stormed out of sight,
"If you don't like it, you can lick 'em!"
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Of course, no one was there--we were at Mary Anne's,
A house large enough to fit the whole Johnson clan.
The children were restless, and made plenty of noise
Eager to unwrap their brand new Christmas toys.
It was getting late, also, so decision was swift,
And we all adjourned downstais to pass out the gifts.
Since the beginning of time, that job always did
Belong to our dad, helped by all little kids.
But this year, all the young kids belonged to Aunt Sue,
So she felt that the old method just wouldn't do.
"All right, let's get started!" she said with a shout.
"You big kids come over and pass the gifts out!"
She then turned away, as if the case were now shut,
We looked at Aunt Susan and then we thought... "What?"
Some of us wondered why she should decide,
While the rest searched for ingenious places to hide.
But there was one with whom this plan just wouldn't wash,
And we knew in an instant, it was going to be Josh.
He said not a word, but went straight to his beer
Intensely pretending that he didn't hear.
But not even he could ignore the new shame,
When she ordered again, and called us by name.
"Now Matthew! Now Joseph! Now Luke and now Laura!"
"Now Josh!" thereby opening a box marked 'Pandora.'
"Come get the presents from under the tree,
And distribute them to us, like, A.S.A.P.!"
Josh could have sought trouble, but chose to eschew it.
He said "No", and felt that was all there was to it.
It was not the reply on which Susan had planned.
How dare he deny her specific command?
This volatile moment Susan could have defused,
Had she listened when Josh had politely refused.
But she pressed on the matter, and ordered again,
This time with the backing of old Uncle Ken.
Sure, he'd been drinking, but you can't blame the beer
For the tendrils of smoke pouring out of his ears.
By the look on his face, scowling and rough,
I could tell that my brother had had just enough.
Once more he was asked, and once more he said "No,"
And then he told Kenny just where he could go.
Josh ripped him a new one, and Aunt Susan too.
He turned faces red as he turned the air blue.
"This is bullshit," he shouted, "the one thing that I'll pass
"Is the point of that Christmas tree, straight up your ass."
The tirade continued, not short and not sweet,
Using words even I'm too ashamed to repeat.
Josh's rant went on before all our relations,
Who bore horrified witness to his aggravation.
Their incessant badgering produced the effect
Of no gifts handed out, and one pissed-off redneck.
Some feelings were hurt, but Josh did not care;
He kept muttering curses and went up the stairs.
But I heard him exclaim, as he stormed out of sight,
"If you don't like it, you can lick 'em!"