By the end of this week, I am SO going to need it.

**My annual pre-Christmas poem column**

‘Tis just before Christmas, and here in my house
I’m scolding my kids, and nagging my spouse.
For we’re all out of time, with no time to spare,
They’re driving me crazy, I’m pulling my hair.

Still so much to do, but where should I start?
For creating a great Christmas is a magical art,
One that I love and adore every minute,
But when I procrastinate, my heart is not in it.

I still need to gift-wrap, I still need to buy
A present for Donnie, my most wonderful guy.
I need stocking stuffers, a full ton of candy
To stuff the kids’ stockings all fat and dandy.

I still need to clean, to dust and to sweep,
To scour and scrub and oh yeah—to sleep.
But sleep is for sissies and there’s no time for that.
I’ll have to sleep vicariously through Max, my cat.

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It probably sounds silly, but this is my all-time favorite version of Dickens’ tale. Not only does Michael Caine create a brilliantly convincing Ebenezer Scrooge, it’s just so darn funny. Whenever we watch it, the boys and I go around for days singing, “We’re Marley and Marley…WoooOOOOOoooo!” I really need to get it on DVD…we’re still watching the video I bought before Zach was born. And we’ll watch it again this weekend.

It’s going to be kind of hard to watch it this year, though. I know someone who, for two years now, has cast a decidedly Scrooge-like pall over our celebration. It’s taking all I have within me to hold tight to the joy and peace that the season is supposed to bring us.  I wish more than anything that their eyes could be opened as Scrooge’s were; that they could see the chains dragging them down, and realize that Christmas has nothing to do with greed or malice, but is about love and giving, and making other people happy.

Anyone know where I can hire three ghosts to do the job?

“A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!” cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew…

“Bah!” said Scrooge, “Humbug!”

“Christmas a humbug, uncle!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure.”

“I do,” said Scrooge. “Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.”

“Come, then,” returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.”

Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said “Bah!” again; and followed it up with “Humbug.”

Yes, Virginia—you can burn chocolate in the microwave.  And it fills your home with truly noxious smoke.  When I told a few friends about yesterday’s kitchen mishap, they said they never realized you could burn chocolate in a microwave.

I was making a batch of gourmet caramel apples and stepped outside for just a moment. When I walked back in, a wisp of smoke wafted past my nose. It was billowing out of the microwave.

I’m usually a pretty decent cook, but I still don’t know what I did wrong. Maybe I accidentally entered the wrong time?  I think the cheap ceramic  “Made in China” bowl might’ve had something to do with it. That bowl always gets ultra-hot in the microwave (despite the “Microwave safe” label) and once it cooled down, I found a block of charred chocolate along the bottom of the bowl.

Yes, when in doubt, blame the “Made in China” label. Works for me.

Today, I have to teach my kids, make a dozen gourmet caramel apples and a dozen fancy pretzel rods, deliver them, write my column which is tricky because it’s my annual “Night Before Christmas” poem, and try to squeeze in some laundry and cleaning. Fourteen other things are on my to-do list, but they’re going to have to wait for another day.

I just woke up and I’m already tired. But sleep is for the weak! I can nap on December 26th…and the 27th, and the 28th, and the 29th…