’Twas four days before Christmas, when all thro’ the camper
Not a creature was stirring, not even a scamper;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But no holiday cards to be found, none anywhere.
Oh no, we’re out of Christmas cards, no more can we send;
Looks like we’ll have to go to the Family Dollar, just around the bend.
The time is near to finish the cards, so off to the store to buy more we run;
High and low we look, but no boxes were to be found, except one.
And what to our surprise do we see?
The only cards left were African-American; so it shall be.
Out they will go to friends, delivered on USPS sleds,
While visions of sugar plums dance in their heads.
That's right folks. We ran out of Christmas cards to mail out and the nearest store was six miles up the road. The only cards they had left were African-American. Those who get them from us won't think twice about it. I imagine there are some out there who would be offended. Since we avoid people like that we'll never know.
Just one day more...