1 year ago General

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

After sharing a pie and a bottle of red,

Myself and my wife got ourselves off to bed.


Tossing and turning, I lay there wide eyed,

For I may be past 40, but a child still inside.

I try counting sheep but then think of the spuds,

The stuffing, the gravy and a hot Christmas pud.


Sooner or later I’m drifting away,

When I hear a commotion just down the hallway.

I pick up the closest thing, there on the floor,

Now armed with a slipper, I make for the door


I hear three “Ho’s” that are tainted with gloom,

And sound like they came from the upstairs bathroom.

I knock on the door and take a step through,

To find old Saint Nick, bent over our loo.


“Santa” I cry, half whisper, half shout,

“What’s going on, what’s all this about?”

“Sorry my friend, I did not think you’d hear,

But I get rather ill after mince pies and beer.”


“Santa”, I ask, as I’m rubbing his back,

“Do you think there’s a chance you could be Coeliac?”

“I’ve started to wonder about it of late,

But the doctor in Lapland just isn’t that great!”


So I took him through the all of the things he can’t eat,

And with a look of distress he cries “WHAT ABOUT QUICHE!?”

“Don’t worry Saint Nick, I have just what you need”

And I dash to the kitchen, and get there with speed.



I open the fridge door to fetch him my stock,

The pork pies, the cheesecakes, the quiches – the lot!

“Try these Nicholas, and see how you feel,

And give your intestine a few days to heal.”


He bites on a pork pie and mumbles with glee,

“These pork pies are too good to be gluten free!”

And quick as a flash he swallows the snack,

Then throws all the rest of them into his sack.


“Thank you my friend for you’ve taught me a lot,

And your kids will receive the best presents I’ve got.

But now I must dash before it gets light,

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

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