Bonus Poem - 'TWAS THE FRIDAY 'FORE CHRISTMAS (with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

'Twas the Friday 'fore Christmas, and all through the mall,
Every creature was hurrying while walking the halls;
The clothing was hung in the windows with care,
In hopes that the shoppers might buy each thing there;
The babies were bundled in roll-around beds,
While visions of ' Secret bras danced in my head;
Some still wore their scarves and their coats and their caps,
But most for the long night had cast off their wraps;
When Macy's I saw, with all glitter and glamour,
I knew right away I'd find what I was after;
Straight into the store, then, I rapidly dashed,
Through aisles of perfume ("Whew!" I shuttered, unsplashed);
The salesfolk all dressed up from head down to toes
Gave a luster of elegance 'round each tableau;
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a short line in front of a Macy's cashier!
I stepped up my pace, walking lively and quick,
Thinking in just a moment, my presents I'd pick;
But quickly I found that my hopes were all lame,
When "maternity" was the department I named;
"Now, is it your daughter, or your next of kin
Who's pregnant?" she asked. "Yes!" I said with a grin;
"Then up to the second floor of this fine mall
Dash now! For that's not in this aisle at all!"
As shoppers that in Christmas crowds then must try
To meet just the right person from whom they might buy,
So up the escalator, determined, I flew,
To buy clothes for the daughter in four more months due!
And then, in a twinkling, I felt like a goof
For into maternity soon I did hoof;
As I drew near the racks and was looking around,
No kind, "May I help you?" would to me redound;
When finally I found someone to troubleshoot,
She looked through the clothes, much like I, a galoot;
So I left!  And on iPhone, my line of attack,
Motherhood Maternity was the store that I tracked,
But then, all the shoppers! And stores!  Oh, how scary!
Oh, where should I go? So I called with a query;
I drew up for her where I was so she'd know
Where my chin should be pointed, and I could then go
Find her store, not be stumped, and not gritting my teeth,
Thus I circled back down to the floor underneath;
I wanted some yoga pants for a round belly,
The salesgirl then laughed, said she wanted to hug me -
For not buying online, but from off of the shelf!
So I laughed when she spoke that, in spite of myself;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
She knew the right words, and went straight to her work,
I didn't want stockings; (Oh, what a good clerk!)
Fold-over and secret-fit PANTS, are the clothes,
Not leggings, and thus, in her hands there arose
The pieces I wanted, so I gave, then, a whistle;
I paid, and then flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ere I strode out of sight—
"Merry Christmas to you - and your daughter, so bright!"

Scott L. Barton