The Week Before Christmas: 2020 EditionTwas the week before Christmas and all through the landEveryone was sick of social distancing, it could f*cking go pound sand;The masks were all hung by the front door with care,In hopes that a COVID vaccine soon would be there;The children were shuffling around all snug in their warm PJs;This was also now their school attire, and that's just how we rolled these days;And mamma in her yoga pants, and I in my hoodie,Had just started another day full of Zoom meetings -- yippee, oh goodie.When out by the front stoop there arose such a clatter,I wasn't wearing pants.....but, oh, but did that really matter?So away to the window I rolled my chair without tryingForgot my headphones were still plugged in -- my laptop it went flying.When what to my wondering eyes did appear?But a van rumbling up my driveway blasting 80's rock music so loud I could hear.With a little old driver so apathetic and all his f*cks gone,I knew in a moment he must be from Amazon.You see just twice this week to our house he had already came,He had been here so much this year he knew us all by name:"Now, Junior! now, Senior! now Mother you Vixen!Some juice boxes, some cheap toilet paper, some records by Mojo Nixon!"To the top of the porch he struggled to carry them allIt reminded me it was UberEats or DoorDash I also needed to call.Close as possible to the door the packages he threwHe had a van full of other people's orders, he had sh*t to do —And then, in a twinkling, a dinging sound from the kitchen was contrived.It was Alexa announcing that once again that a shipment had arrived.As I drew in my head, and started scooting my chair back to my work,A sudden knock at the door startled me with a jerk.It was the Amazon driver dressed in blue, from his head to his toe,He smelled like Taco Bell and Dunkin' -- oh, so that's where he must go!The boxes he delivered were strewn all about on the stoop,"Oh god," from the other room my wife shouted, "I hope he doesn't have to poop!"His eyes—they were tired. His hair was a mess.You could tell, like everyone, he was just done with all of this BS.His droll little mouth was covered by a gaiter,He got it for the second job he used to have at a restaurant as a waiter.He was chubby and plump, stress eating will do that to most.And I laughed when I saw him, but look who was I to brag or to boast?A wink of his eye and a twist of his headSoon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;He spoke not a word, but slowly took out his phone.And snapped a selfie with him and all of our packages; me in the doorway alone.And raising his middle finger just before he took the picThen giving a nod, he scurried back to his truck real quick.He turned on the ignition and resumed blasting his 80's Hair Metal.And away he peeled from our house, with his foot heavily on the pedal.But I'll never forget, his last words both shocked and left me in stitches —“Thank god this year is finally over. See you later all you bitches!”Happy Holidays, Friends. Expect a scaled down version of the FoD next week with our usual year end round up in the week following. Good links below -- check them out!XOXODave