By: Anna Kittrell

Mrs Claus

‘Twas the night before Christmas, alone in the house

Mrs. Claus waits for Santa—that two-timing louse

She’d found the black stockings no good girl would wear

Proof that St. Nick had a naughty affair


She’d cooked and she’d cleaned, and each day made the bed

She’d knitted that cap he wore on his bald head!

She’d served him warm cookies and cold milk on tap

Yet, no gift he’d left for his wife to unwrap


Mrs. Claus gave a smile that could cause bones to clatter

Santa would pay for those dreams he’d let shatter

He’d treated her feelings like unwanted trash

His love was as fake as Monopoly cash


Now tables were turning, and soon he would know

Her scrimshaw doll, Rosa, wrapped up with a bow

Tucked away in his toy sack, but soon to appear

Her unholy presence would spook the reindeer


For a brittle antique, she moved eerily quick

It would take her but moments to pummel St. Nick

She’d easily beat the elf at his own game

Betrayal was Rosa the Doll’s middle name


By now he’d regret hooking up with that vixen!

When Rosa was done, he’d be way beyond fixin’!

No way to escape the sheer wrath of that doll

She only hoped children would not see him fall


As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky

So all through her mind thoughts of Santa Claus flew

His sleigh full of toys, and the scrimshaw doll too

Then with sudden inkling, she needed more proof

If he wasn’t cheating—she’d made a huge goof

But now it was too late to turn things around

She cringed as she pictured his sleigh tumble down


Tears sprang to her eyes, and with sobs her chest shook

What she wouldn’t give to have just one last look

Was that footsteps she heard on the roof of their shack?

Had Santa escaped and somehow made it back?


His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His kissable lips were drawn up like a bow

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow


He winked, and his smile showed a flash of white teeth

With his gloved hand he led her ‘neath the mistletoe wreath

A warmth like fresh gingerbread spread through her belly

The look in his eyes turned her insides to jelly

Santa and Mrs ClausHad the scrimshaw doll spared the jolly old elf?

It had to be true—she could see for herself

He tipped her chin upward and lowered his head

His kiss told her that she had nothing to dread


There could be just one reason that curse didn’t work

Santa must have been faithful—not a two-timing jerk

“Hurry up, darling, get out of those clothes

I simply must see you in those fishnet hose”


She changed in the bedroom, and he gave a whistle

They flew to the bed like the down of a thistle

Mrs. Claus smiled, enraptured, as Nick got it right

Betrayed, Rosa seethed in the toy sack all night…


Happy Holidays!

To learn more about Rosa the Scrimshaw Doll, download my book, Skinbound. On sale for just .99 cents!

Click book cover for buy link.