Another year, another offended relative.

The carols ring, the bells do ching,

the packages gather under the tree.

The near and dear and far and dar

do drive up to come visit we.

Yet this Yuletide tide of yulity,

inspires a certain fear in me.



There's always that one, or two or three,

who takes offence at some passing thing.

Little itty bittys that no one with a lick of sense,

would let occupy their mittle minds for more than a bit.

And each following year, I get to hear from my mum

about which among the whole bunch now thinks I'm a bum.



Some years I think about just nots trying,

and some times I just starts crying.

I mean, if I just don't please when they visit,

why don't they just up an quit it!?

I have better things to do with my mind

than to second guess them of the whinging kind!


And yet, and yet, for all thet,

there be a few who, out of ignorance or spite

never claim that anything isn't right.

And while they bring a smile to me face,

they be the ones that most make my heart race,

for I fear that this year will be the one,

when they, too, will put me in my place!