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'Twas the Night for Assembling

Directions and Other Joys of the Season

By Kellie Head

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except me and my spouse.

The stockings were empty, no presents were wrapped
We were way behind schedule and our resources tapped.

The children were nestled all snug in the beds,
While the horrors of assembling danced in our heads.

Dad armed with a screwdriver, ready and poised
To build a red trike for one of our boys.

When off in the hall there arose a strange noise
We dove over boxes to hide all the toys.

The thud, it turned out, was our dumb puppy Paul
Who was chasing the cat and ran into the wall.

Back to his task, Dad cursed at his mess
I suspect he was lost, but he'd never confess.

He wrestled with parts and fumbled with tools
E-mailed the manufacturer and called them all fools.

After hours of struggle, the bike finally took shape,
With a few cuts and bruises and the aid of duct tape.

He stood back and gaped at the bike he just built
It weaved and it wobbled and rolled with a tilt.

His frustration grew; his voice shook as he spoke
"The directions are Greek, it's all a sick joke."

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