A very pregnant Christmas

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   T'was the due date near Christmas and all through the house,

 Was the sound of mum whining as she grizzled and groused.

This strange waddling woman, please handle with care, for her mood could explode, like an emergency flare.

While the rest of her family are tucked up in bed, she's fretting 'bout the size of her unborn babe's head.

She looks at her bump and her vanishing lap, "I'd give anything to have a night's sleep or a nap!"

From the bathroom's direction comes a crash and a clatter, Hubby comes running to see what's the matter.

He opens the door and tries hard not to laugh, at the sight of her trying to get out of the bath.

As her trousers get smaller and her knickers get bigger, she pines for her once youthful slim and taut figure.

The backache, The Braxtons, Endless trips to the loo, she can't even bend down to put on socks or shoes.

"I can't take any more, I wish labour would come, the pain may be greater, but then it's all done"

She can't sink any lower, she's down and depressed, but the next time you see her, there's a sling on her chest.

She's walking, not waddling, no more aches or pain, the nights she spent crying, have erased from her brain.

So that's where we'll leave her, full of pride and good cheer,

"Merry Christmas to all, And a Happy New Year!" 

Edited by Flutterby