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Primitive Nick-A-Penny Fambly!

 

"Saint Nick-A-Mas"

 

It just isn't Christmas until you've peeked into the Nick-A-Penny household and experienced the joys of how THEY celebrate the holiday season!

 

Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy is known for his holiday celebrations. And there is no holiday closer to his heart than Christmas.

Their special night is full of excitement and thrills as the time comes for the family tradition......the reading of the poem by Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy.

The chil'ons were running wild and screaming their fool heads off as Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy was settling down for the evening. The 29 inch tall man was about to start the reading.

 

 

He dons a red Santa's hat that has been stained and aged. It barely fits all the wool hair he has, and his white vintage button eyes shine as bright as stars.
His painted and sanded head is feeling slightly light, due to the booze he put in the Egg Nog, but that's okay.....it makes for an interesting time while reading the poem.


Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy is ready.........he licks his big red lips and gives a hearty whistle and the chil'ons scamper into the living room and sit at his feet.

 

Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy had been at work all day, so he still wears his work clothes....his stained black denim over-alls, and a green and white checked Homespun shirt with the arms tied down with twine.
His over-alls have several pockets, for carrying his chil'ons, and some patches hand-sewn near his knees.

 

He's also still wearing his brown work boots.

 

 

The time has come. Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy sets his small brass spittoon beside his easy-chair, and gives his chest a gentle 'pat' to make sure his pouch of 'chew' was still safety-pinned to his over-alls, and that his pipe was still secure.

 

Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy has written his own traditional poem, and he made it rhyme with The Night Before Christmas.


The chil'ons begin to giggle and act shy.....there was no greater time in their lives than listening to their daddy say the special poem. And it was even more fun when the house was full of uncles and aunts and cousins, and the house was loaded on this night.

A hush falls over the room as Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy unfolds the crinkling, wrinkled, and heavily creased and stained notebook paper, and reads the words loud and proud......

 

Da Night Be'fo Chriz'miz


(Copyright November 9, 2002 Cathy Palmer-Scruggs)


Twas da night be'fo Chriz'miz,
An' all through da crib,
All da chil'ons was fightin'
To git dat last rib.

Da 'Scratch-Offs' were set
By da bottles of Gin,
In hopes dat Saint Nick-A-Mas
Would possibly win!

Da chil'ons wuz piled up,
Asleep on da flo' ...
Dey didn't have beds,
'Cuz we wuz too po'...

An' Mamma in her nightshirt,
An' me in ma gloves,
Wuz headin' ta bed,
Cuz we wuz in love!

When up in da night,
We awoke from da racket,
I thought it was Shawn,
A-stealin' ma jacket.

Away to ma dresser,
I took out ma gun....
I filled it wit bullets,
"I'll shoot me someone!"

Wiff da moon on da hill,
Of da new-fallen snow,
I thought I saw Tyrone,
Out walkin' his ho'...

When what to ma wondering
Eyes did appear?
Just an old Pontiac...
Filled wit chil'ons an' beer!

Wiff a skinny ol' driver,
Who started to cuss,
I knew in a moment,
"It's SAINT NICK-A-MAS!!"

 

Oh, how the chil'ons loved this part. This is when the poem gets good!!
Even the big chicken that Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy was holding began to cluck, squirm, and carry on.

 

Little Tyreese snuggled up in Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy's pocket, right under the chicken. He was wearing a red and white checked Homespun shirt and he was holding a rusty little wagon toy and a small basket of candy canes. He was scared of the chicken, but felt safe with his Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy!

 

Then, the little white girl jumped into Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy's twine belt and began swinging wildly.
Apparently, the Ritalin wore off and she was becoming hyper again.
.....she was wearing an orange plaid Homespun dress.
She had been given a green cookie and a basket holding a tiny red notebook with real lined pages.

 

 

 

Little Rylie LaKeesha stopped playing with the hand-painted and aged wooden black baby with the Santa hat that hangs from her arm, and began to listen to the poem intently.
She had been given a small slice of watermelon.
She is wearing a green and white 'ticking' dress with small red hearts, and her hair is made of soft wool.

 

 

Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy reached down, just out of the chil'on's sight, and secured the burlap bag of surprises and treats. There was a little Nutcracker doll for Rylie LaKeesha sticking up, and a red velveteen wrapped package.........what could it be???
Small ornaments hung on the outside of the burlap sack...a little toy boat and a golden toy drum.

 

Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy knew he had to hurry up and finish the poem so he could get the chil'ons off to bed. He was dying to tend to his 'scratch-off' tickets that were tucked away in an upper pocket on his over-alls.
So he continued with the tradition of reading his special poem.......

 

Mo' rapid den roaches,
His chil'ons dey came,
An' he whistled an' shouted,
An' called 'em by name......

"Now, Leroy! Now, Tyrone!
Now Queenie! Now, Keesha!
On, Kizzie! On, Keely!
On, Toby and Neesha!

To da step of da poach,
Through da doh' in da wall...
Now, git in dare, git in dare,
Git in dare, ya'll."

An' den in a moment,
I heard in da kitchen,
Da screamin' and fightin',
Da yellin' an' bitchin'.

Dey ate up da taters,
Da ribs an' da Pones,
Dey ate up da turkey,
'Cept gristle an' bones.

As I drew in ma gun,
An' wuz turnin' aroun',
There stood Saint Nick-A-Mas,
An' he was HELL-bound.

He wuz drunk on his butt,
An' he staggered an' swayed,
There went our Chriz-miz!
Fo' we wuz dismayed.

Dat bundle of cans,
He had flung on his back,
Will soon be recycled,
An' den he'll buy Crack.

His eyes -- dey wuz hollow,
His lips wuz so dry...
His knees wuz so wobbly,
'Cuz he wuz so high.

His hair wuz so nappy,
He looked like a clown,
Fo' he had been drinkin',
All night, on da town.

Da stump of his pipe,
He held tight in his pocket,
Would give him some cash,
Whenever he'd hock it.

He had a thin face,
An' wuz a bit smelly,
He had brown little teef,
An' a little pot-belly.

He wuz tattered an' torn,
An' he needed a shave,
Hadda foot on a 'nanner',
An' one in da grave.

The twitch of his eye,
An' da nod of his head,
Had give me da clues,
Dis man's 'in-bred'.

He spoke not a word,
But went straight to ma liquor,
I tried to run faster,
But da fool wuz much quicker.

Den pointin' his finger,
Across to da doh,
He summoned his fambly,
An' out dey did go....

He jumped in his car,
To the chil'ons he whistled,
An' away dey all drove,
While chewin' some gristle.

An' I stood an' yelled out,
As dey drove outta sight,
"Mare Chriz'miz to all,
Hey, where's yo' headlights?"

 

As Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy finished the last words of the special poem, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
The Nick-A-Penny family enjoys another successful and special Christmas Eve!

 

Wouldn't you like to bring Saint Nick-A-Mas Daddy and his chil'ons into your home for the holidays?

 

Copyright November 9, 2002 and October 19, 2003 Cathy Palmer-Scruggs / Catt Alexander

 

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Disclaimer:

My dolls are not for everyone, they are my art. If you are offended, I suggest you hit the back button. It will not do you any good to write me 'hate mail'. 

In spite of the dolls I create and the stories I write, I do not use recreational drugs, I don't smoke cigarettes, and I don't even drink alcoholic beverages.