'Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving, and all through the house,
kids were peeing and pooping,
and I was throwing candy out.
I was told that it was the meanest thing I could "ever do",
and meanwhile Baby Girl was chewing a stick of glue.
While I glared at the blurry Christmas cards I'd ordered with a pout,
and called customer service a brutal Brother fight broke out.
Little Brother was cross when I told him to stay,
right there in the den, no talking, no play.
So cross in fact, he decided to pee
all over the carpet and floor to upset me.
He had to stand in his puddle and was handed a towel,
and as I did the dishes I smelled something foul.
Baby Girl had decided to remove her diaper,
and a trail of little poop-lettes were scattered beside her.
I cleaned up the poop and scooped her to the stairs in a whirl,
Big Brother touched the gate too hard and it fell on on Baby Girl.
The baby jumped headfirst right into the bath,
while I stood there beside her as one second passed.
Meanwhile I heard some shrieks down the hall,
some Brothers thought it was fun to throw pillows and into a bathtub to fall.
Next thing I know I begin to hear screaming,
and banging and pounding, please tell me I'm dreaming!
An epic battle of suckers-in-Ziplocs had ensued,
and Little Brother was crying that Big Brother was a "bad dude"!
And through his red hair I could see a big knot.
Was this the 4th, or 5th, or 10th time they'd fought?!
I calmed them all down and went straight to my work,
dusting, and cleaning, and chopping while the kids danced and "twerked".
Trying to get this madhouse ready for the big Turkey Day,
while dreaming that the kids are all in bed after an evening of quiet play.
But the truth is... it's dinner, and diapers, and craziness right through bedtime.
And I know how things will seem later as we open some wine...
I will feel my heart fill with love, as I turn out their light
that I have my little trouble-makers to be grateful for this 'Before-Thanksgiving-Night'!