Here's Alison: The Christmas Gift
Alison Ross's poem reveals that there is one Christmas gift that a wife should never be given.
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What, I wondered, had he bought
As I sat down, beside the tree
There was a parcel gaily wrapped
And yes, addressed to me.
The parcel was enormous
Not tiny, like last year's
He was usually such a skinflint
I spent most Christmas days in tears.
But behold, before me lay a box
Christmas wrapped, and yes,
It really was exciting
There was no way I could guess.
To prolong the joy I felt
I undid slowly all the ties
Until the wrapping was gone
And there, before my eyes...
Was a set of shiny saucepans!
In which to cook his meals no doubt.
I aimed them at his head
And the neighbours heard me shout.
I told him ‘bout his pedigree
With each one I threw
And as he lay unconscious
I said "Merry Christmas dear to you.''
