Twas the Night Before Christmas

Written by: Andrea Dietrich

(warning: adult humor) Twas the night before Christmas when I and my groom finally found a motel but with just one room. My groom was in the bathroom - leaving me alone- so that he could douse himself with some cheap cologne. I - in my red negligee - thought of bump and grind, visions of his sugar plums dancing in my mind. Then a noise I heard outside gave me such a fright! who was out there in the snow on our special night? Opening our small room’s door, I felt like a goof. It was just an icicle falling off the roof. Then I felt a sudden breeze. One unlucky bride! As the door behind me shut, I was locked outside. When upon my motel door I began to pound, it was clear that my dear groom did not hear a sound. Right before my startled eyes, what should then appear? Someone dressed as Santa Claus, filling me with fear! His eyes, though not so cheery, lit up, seeing me as he crossed the street and came stumbling drunkenly. I stood helpless, trembling in scanty siren red when an icicle fell down clunking my poor head. I revived in the ER, thong still on my rump! Underneath my bandage was an enormous lump. Thankfully my groom was there, smelling of Old Spice. But we’d have no chance to give gifts naughty and nice. At our room I later saw Santa Claus was there - that same guy who’d seen me in sexy underwear. Having seen my accident he’d informed my groom right before he then collapsed stone drunk in our room. Santa on our honeymoon with cheeks rosy red, (but not one “Merry Christmas”), stole our wedding bed.