Twas The Night Before the Big Estate Sale

Twas The Night Before the Big Estate Sale
(to the cadence of ‘Twas the Night before Christmas)

‘Twas the night before the sale, and all thru the house,
Were thousands of price tags, placed by me and my spouse.

The clothing was hung in the closets upstairs,
In hopes that tomorrow, maybe somebody cares.

The linens, neatly folded, were placed on the beds,
Awaiting the chaos and madness, that everyone dreads.

My wife with her wine, and I with my beer
Had just settled down for a moment’s good cheer.

When out in the driveway I heard muffled chatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

I ran to the front door and opened the lock,
But when I looked out, I received quite a shock.

The glow from the streetlight, shown on a line,
Of early-birds waiting, and it’s half past nine!

They had boxes and bags, and looked ready to attack,
And I said to myself, “Just don’t turn your back.”

It was the kind of a crowd that just won’t take orders,
And I knew in an instant, they were most of them hoarders.

More rapid than rats, they charged for the door,
First ten, and then twenty, then forty or more.

There were fat ones and skinny ones, all of them bold,
With lots of gray hair, (they were fast, for so old).

To the top of the steps and then up to the door,
They came like a wave, all looking to score.

I stepped forward to block them, my heart in my throat,
What estate sales need, is a bridge and a moat.

As loud as I could, I yelled “Stop where you are!”,
But at the end of the driveway, more got out of their car.

They whined and they swore and they pleaded with me,
“You must let us in, we’ve been here since three”.

I said “The sale is tomorrow, if you want, you can wait”,
Then I noticed some others, headed for the side gate.

They were led by a lady who was dressed all in fur,
And she wasn’t stopping, that much was for sure.

She is well known to all of us who hold sales,
You know when I see her my good nature just fails.

No more than a dollar will she ever pay,
she’ll stand there and argue all night and all day.

She’s rude and obnoxious, yells right in your face,
and boy let me tell you, her breath is like mace!

When wrestling for something she always wins
She wears steel toed boots that can damage the shins.

She carried a purse, the size of a trunk,
And unless I’m mistaken, she was a bit drunk.

Her eyes were all bloodshot, she had massive jowls,
The crowd followed behind her with shrieks and with howls.

She flung open the gate, then stopped dead in her track,
My pit bull named “Killer” was guarding the back.

She slammed the gate shut, started backing away,
Looked like she’d decided, she’d rather not stay.

But the crowd at the front started surging ahead,
And just for a moment, I thought I was dead.

Then out of the front door, there stepped my wife,
It’s not the first time, that she’s saved my life.

She carried a cast iron fry pan in hand,
And with it she quickly dispersed the band.

As they ran for their cars she gave me a wink,
She’s a good woman to have, when your too scared to think.

She stood there on watch until they all left,
Just waving that fry pan, and that thing had HEFT!

We went back inside and I sat down in my chair,
She looked calm and peaceful, like she had not a care.

Then she spoke to me in a voice that I’ll never forget,
Said: “Get out of that chair, your pants are all wet!”

When I’d changed my clothes, and she’d finished her wine,
She said to me sweetly: “Dear, our next sale is on-line!”