'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring; not even a mouse.

(Except for the dog...he was licking himself in all sorts of unspeakable places. That's what he always does - disgusting. It's coal in your kibble dish this year, buddyroo.)

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

(This year, Dad made sure the smoke detector had a fresh battery...

...so there would be no repeat of last year's incident with the "non-flammable" stockings...

...Wouldn't want Santa scorching his bottom now, would we?)

The children - well, the child; there's only one right now - were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.

(Actually, visions of aliens dance in this one's head. We don't tell our friends about that.)

And Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap (huh?) had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

(They're not kidding - she snores like a hibernating bear!)

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

(Now we all know that Sims don't spring...

...must rub eyes...

...stretch...

...more stretching...

...alright, I'm up...

...and why doesn't she ever pull her backside out of bed to see what's the matter?)

Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. (Well, the French window from Home Depot doesn't have a sash. I looked through the panes that were permanently closed.)

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below.

(Well, first of all, this is Southern California - no snow, yes smog, so no moonlight shining on any breast of anything. How about "The light of the garish lawn ornaments shone and made everyone else wish that they were their own"?)

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer! With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
(He brought the snow with him, just in case you were wondering.)

(Rudolph the red-nosed reinder had a very shiny nose, and if you ever saw it, you would even say it---Wait! Sorry, wrong reindeer. Anyway, let's pick up inside.)

As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound! (Thanks to new North Pole technology, though, he pretty much just materialized.)

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. (Okay, 21st-century Scotchguard makes that line obsolete...)

His eyes, how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard of his child was as white as the snow!

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth--that is, until he went on the patch. He hasn't smoked in years.
Um...He had a broad face and a little round belly...wait, he's been working out. But the bit of belly he had left still shook when he laughed, like a small bowlful of jelly!

He was not so chubby and plump, but still, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

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

And filled all the stockings, then turned...

...and walked out the front door?

Well, we were wondering how he kept himself so trim these days.

Walking through snow is hard work...

That's why we live in Southern California, where it usually doesn't snow. He could have shoveled it for us - better gift than the hollow chocolate in the stocking!

He just disappeared at the end of the lot...more North Pole technology, I guess.

Though Santa said nothing, we'll say this to you:
Merry, merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, too!