I gave my Dad a box of creme drops and this poem for Christmas one year. I didn't know they still made those things. When I saw them I had to buy them because they brought back this memory for me.


The stockings were hung all over the place.
they were all the same size
and not personalized.
They belonged to our Dad,
fresh and clean from his drawer,
usually brown and stretchie,
which meant they'd hold more.
On Christmas morning they'd be standing alone,
stuffed full of goodies and propped in a row.
Several apples and oranges, and what should appear,
but a handful of creme drops,
"Oh what a NIGHTMARE!!"
Year after year we gaged them all down,
and from that time on I can't even stomach the smell.
This gift is for you
from the bottom of my heart,
but don't you dare,
offer to SHARE !!!