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Singing Pigs

Christmas‘Twas the night before Christmas and up in her house,

A teacher sat staring, exhausted, at her spouse.

Her work clothes were hung in a closet without care,

In hopes that just sweatpants for two weeks she’d wear.

The children were all sent home with knowledge well-fed,

While worries about final grades danced in their heads.

And me in my sweatpants, my grading pen I capped.

And settled my brain in for its vacation nap.

When suddenly from the phone arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away to my Android I flew like a flash,

The tea I’d been drinking hit the ground with a crash.

The screen of my phone with its ever-shining glow,

A whole world of worry in front of me did show.

For what to my terrified eyes should appear,

A list of school emails whose contents…

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