The Pyrex Night before Christmas

Back by popular demand...okay not really. But it's now officially a tradition.

(Loosely adapted from Clement C. Moore's classic)

THE PYREX NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house



Not a Pyrex was being stirred, not even by a mouse;



The Christmas casseroles were laid in the fridge with care,



In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;



The children were nestled all snug in their beds,



While visions of colourful fridgies danced in their heads;



Everything was now all nicely wrapped,


And I had just settled down for a long winter's nap,



When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,



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



Down the stairs I flew like a flash,



Tore open the French doors and threw up the sash.



The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow



Gave the lustre of mid-day to baking dishes below,



When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,



But a miniature sleigh full of Pyrexware.



With a little old driver, so lively and quick,



I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.



He started taking out Pyrex dishes of great fame,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;



"Now, Butterprint! now, Butterfly Gold! now, Friendship and Daisy!



On, Snowflake! On Spring Blossom! on, Homestead and Horizon Blue!



To the top of the counter! to the top of the table!



Now stash away! stash away! stash away all!"



As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,



When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,



So up to the cupboards the dishes they flew,



With the sleigh full of glassware, and St. Nicholas too.



He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,



And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;



A bundle of bowls he had flung on his back,



And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.



His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!



His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a Gooseberry!



His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,



And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;



He had a broad face and a little round belly,



That shook, when he laughed like a Cinderella bowl full of jelly.



He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,



And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;



 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,



And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,



And laying his finger aside of his nose,



And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;



He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,



And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.



But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,



"Happy Christmas and lots of Pyrex to all, and to all a good-night."