Dashing Through the Mall

Dashing through the mall with a charge card in my fist Wondering why I ever wrote a Christmas present list The jeans my daughter wanted were torn around the knees I couldn't spend a hundred bucks although they'd sure to please I found her a fuscia sweater, I know it is her size I'm sure that she will show to me displeasure in her eyes The lady said the plaid shawl would flatter any shape I know my daughter's teen mouth will be hanging quite agape Next year I'm not doing shopping for anyone I know I'll save myself much heartache and probably lots of dough Everyone is getting a holiday gift card And that will be the final word from this over shopped out bard