Menopause & Mischief · The Front Porch Swing · The Soft Side of Sass

Christmas Eve Chaos

Twas the night before Christmas, and with festive smiles,
We drove to the mountains – all 100 miles.
My gas tank was full. The dogs had been fed.
“Join us in Blue Ridge,” my daughter had said.

“We rented a cabin — twill be so much fun!”
Four dogs, three kids, and room for each one.
So, trunk packed with presents and GPS ready,
The dogs and I traveled along sure and steady.

We got to the cabin — what a delight!
Why not expect everything to be right?
My daughter looked frazzled searching her phone.
“We need the door code,” she let out a moan.

Her husband called VRBO begging for help.
The dogs were barking, and one let a yelp.
The children — all hungry — started to whine.
My bladder was screaming, “No, it’s not fine!”

Cartoon-style illustration of a woman locked out of a cabin on Christmas Eve, staring at her phone while her two small dogs, Phoebe and Maggie, stand beside her in the snow near luggage and wrapped gifts.
Christmas Eve plans: cabin in the mountains.
Reality: locked out, dogs judging me, 220 miles later… back home.
Still counts as an adventure, right? πŸŽ„πŸ€·πŸΌβ€β™€οΈ


The afternoon sunshine started to fade
Into the dark, like the plans we had made.
After an hour that seemed more like two,
“Sadly, there is nothing more we can do.”

The grandkids were angry, and so was I.
My daughter, defeated, wanted to cry.
My son-in-law? Bless the heart of this spouse.
He laughed and said, “How about Waffle House?”

By this time the dogs had marked every tree.
No longer caring, I squatted to pee
Behind a trash can, safely out of view.
Security cameras? Just one or two.

We had to decide — it was getting late.
No decent options provided by fate.
We all hugged good-bye and got in our cars.
We drove back to Georgia beneath the stars.

One hundred miles, and then I was home,
Travel completed and nowhere to roam.
Christmas lasagna was not meant to be.
Instead, a sandwich — dogs staring at me.

Photo of two small dogs, Maggie and Phoebe, sitting close together and looking up attentively at their owner, their faces expectant and expressive.
“Please, Mum, might we have some more?”


Tucked in my bed, I was sleepy and warm,
With Maggie and Phoebe — back to our norm.
My eyelids grew heavy, but not my soul:
There are things in life I cannot control.

I fell asleep with no pain or sorrow.
Christmas morning will be here tomorrow:
Not in a cabin surrounded by trees,
I don’t need fancy; my heart is at ease.

We’ll gather together, the kids and me,
And open the presents under the tree.
We’ll eat Christmas turkey and drink eggnog,
And later enjoy that post-dinner fog.

Laughter will ring through the air like a bell.
Past Christmas stories will make my heart swell.
With love in my heart and kids in my arms,
Holiday magic will sprinkle its charms.

When the day’s over, I’ll slip into bed,
Dogs by my side, pillow under my head.
Stars in the sky will show up and twinkle.
I’m glad I can stay indoors to tinkle. πŸ˜πŸ™ƒπŸ™ˆπŸŽ„πŸŽ

Cartoon-style illustration of a woman wearing a Christmas sweater, smiling while holding her two small dogs, Maggie and Phoebe, in a cozy holiday living room with a decorated Christmas tree and fireplace.
And from Heather, Maggie, and Phoebe, too!

Β© 2025 Heather Nicole Kight – Menopause & Malarkey. All rights reserved including the right to have a happy holiday!

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