Mrs. Draper's Christmas Letter

"I might as well get it over with," she sighed.
She was as devoid of inspiration though,
As the brittle trees and snow shrouded landscape
Were of beauty and budding green life.
She bit her lip as she began to write.

"It''s time for the Draper's Christmas Letter.
We've done a lot this year, so guess I'd better
Get started filling you in on the news
While Bill is on the couch, taking a snooze."

Yeah, old Macho-Man growled, "Don't bother me
With any of your Christmas poem bullshit."
I suppose it demeans the dignity
Of his doctorate to wish  "Happy Holidays,"
Or to ascend to the spirit of the season.

"Bill's still with the college, I'm at the bank,
And for our good health we've the Lord to thank.
And as for our youngsters,Janie and Mel,
They're both in high school and both doing well."

I can just hear Bill reading this, a trace
Of sneer in his voice.  Like a well-trained soldier
I'm not supposed to think for myself,
Just follow his lead.  I'm only the wife.
He's the hallowed intellect of the family.

"Janie's a writer, her efforts show it.
She won an award, Bill got to bestow it.
Mel has given us such gridiron thrills;
No one's heart swells any prouder than Bill's."

"Yeah, Bill's got a lot to be proud of," she mused.
Mel is as arrogant as his old man.
I should write about the lovely young girl
Whom Bill bullied into having an abortion
With all his talk of Mel's brilliant future.

"Mel's bound for college and a law career
And of high school Janie's got one more year.
The kids stayed home while we took our vacation
Bill and I made New England our destination."

Sounds like fun on paper, but what a disaster!
At Longfellow's Wayside Inn I watched Bill
Act the jerk, belittling Longfellow's work.
Like he's ever written anything of lasting value.
He's great though, at disparaging other's efforts

"We saw Longfellow's study and Walden Pond
And Concord Bridge where revolution dawned
In America, and then on to Bunker Hill,
Where many redcoats the minutemen did kill."

Yeah, and motel rooms that smelled of Lysol
And leather attache cases.  Those lonely nights
When Bill and I would retire to our room
After supper were filled with heartbreaking silence
As each of us mulled the other's shortcomings.

"From Harvard Common to Cooperstown
We travelled through rustc villages and down
To the ocean.  As we drove up hill, through dell,
We both got to know each other so well."

There were times during out trip when the road map
Would snarl into yarnlike strands of gibberish
And we'd end up lost.  My life's at that point now.
I've come to realize that I'm somewhere else
Than where I'd rather be at this time of my life.

"We'd like to wish friends and family the best
And hope that your homes are the snuggest of nests,
And to those of you that we can't be near,
We wish you much joy this coming New Year."

Yeah, Bill is right.  This stuff is pretty trite,
But in my last stanza I'll set it all right.
Hey, that rhymes too.  I'm thinking in bad verse,
Banal, like most dialogues of marraige.
I've burst from the fetters of parenthood, alone.

"We wish you Merry Christmas, but this is goodbye.
I suppose you're all out there wondering "Why?"
This is the last letter you'll get from the Drapers
Cuz today I'm serving the son of a bitch papers."