It's about that time of year

when families surround the tree

hoping that presents are underneath.

It's about that time of year

when parents rush to stores

only to find that the presents they wanted,

are nowhere to be found.

It's about that time of year

when children chase after each other,

with snowballs in hand

waiting to be unleashed.

It's about that time of year

when all the bad times of the year

are forgotten, forgiven, and redound.

It's about that time of year,

and I'd say the best time of year,

to walk beneath a mistletoe

to kiss someone other than your neice,

if you know what I mean.