Dear Santa Claus, part 3

I have just received my shipment of the good guy to date. Knowing the high demand and short supply, I had just prepared myself for a long, difficult wait. But then he appeared from amongst the guys I already knew. I wasn't expecting that at all. So kudos, Santa. You managed to surprise me with someone even better than I was hoping for. Thank you.

The Cure

The Cure
by Ginger Andrews

Lying around all day
with some strange new deep blue
weekend funk, I'm not really asleep
when my sister calls
to say she's just hung up
from talking with Aunt Bertha
who is 89 and ill but managing
to take care of Uncle Frank
who is completely bed ridden.
Aunt Bert says
it's snowing there in Arkansas,
on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't been
able to walk out to their mailbox.
She's been suffering
from a bad case of the mulleygrubs.
The cure for the mulleygrubs,
she tells my sister,
is to get up and bake a cake.
If that doesn't do it, put on a red dress.


I skipped baking a cake and went straight for the red dress. It worked.