‘Twas the Night Before Packing

Mia Iverson | Jan 06, 2012 @ 10:00 AM

To celebrate the end of 12 days of Christmas and to guide you through the holiday dishes packing festivities, we wrote a poem just for you ::

It was the 12 days after Christmas and all through the house,

Not a present was left unwrapped, not even granny’s new blouse.

The holiday dishes, plates, and glasses were all washed with care,

In hopes to be dried by the cool winter’s air.

The children were rambunctious, playing videos games in bed,

While visions of Arkham City danced through their heads

And wife in her gown and I eating kale,

Had just settled down and to look at the sales.

When downstairs we heard such a crashing noise,

I threw down my iPad and tripped over toys

Running downstairs, I saw the dishes had fallen

I paused and sneezed; apparently there was some pollen

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

My sons below had smashed most of the drying china wear!

With terror in their eyes, fleeing the scene so lively and quick

I knew in a moment we should have packed everything into our storage unit made of brick.

Calling to my wife, to see the destruction

She came down the stairs avoiding the toys of obstruction

More rapid than fighter jets, to the crime scene she came

And she whistled and she shouted, our young sons names:

“Now Hunter, now Andrew, now Michael and Sam!

You clean up this mess as fast as you can!

You fools, you devils, make sure to use the broom!

Don’t miss one broken piece and return to your rooms!”

When met with this obstacle they hustled and hurried

And flew to their rooms like little snow flurries

With the boys now quiet, and us to our bed,

I knew that my wife was all-full of dread

Our living room was filled with empty storage boxes

And she never considered herself when packing one of the sly foxes.

The next morning…

While reading my latest GQ, I heard at the door

Possible prancing and pawing, but it was just wind coming down the moor

As I returned to my ‘zine and wife with her coffee came around

Through the door I swear Santa came with a bound

He was dressed like classy George Clooney from his head to his foot

And his clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot

A bundle of bubble wrap and packing papers was flung on his back

And he looked still like Clooney, opening his pack

His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples how merry

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow

And the well kempt beard was white as snow

The wife was impressed with Santa Clooney’s teeth

And the steam from her coffee encircled his head like a wreath

He came forward and said, “We have some packing to do,

And wake up the boys they can help too!”

He was lean and well built, a right handsome old elf,

And my wife broke into a smile and said, “I’ll wake them myself!”

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread.

Me, the wife, and boys, we spoke not a word and went straight to our work

So glad the remaining dishes were dry with no hope of growing bacteria or dirt

And wrapping each glass and dish with bubble wrap and newspaper

We stacked them in fours and I wondered if I’d ever look like Don Draper

Sam looked up and saw, jolly Clooney was no longer there

And he wondered out loud, “Did he disappear in the air?”

My wife in awe said, “I don’t know son,”

But I knew our handsome storage elf was gone…

Michael ran to the window and watched as he drove out of sight, saying,

“Happy Packing to all and make sure to pack your valuables just right!”

Need a more straightforward solution to packing your precious holiday dinnerware? Check out our Tips on Packing Dishes and you know The Container Store has many options when storing your valuable crystal, glass, and porcelain. Happy packing!