‘Twas the day after Christmas and all through our home,
All the presents were broken even the robotic gnome.
The stockings once filled with new Christmas toys,
Lie empty, marred by careless girls and boys.
The children were whining and with nothing to do,
Argued how toys became damaged and by whom.
I knew there’s no way I could ever fix them all,
And still have time to watch college football!
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I jumped from my chair to see what was the matter!
As I ran out on the porch to witness the flap,
I saw an old van driven by an odd-looking chap!
The exhaust from the clunker the odd man was driving,
Filled the air with gray smoke as the van was arriving.
When what to my wandering eyes forthwith I spied,
“WE FIX BROKEN CHRISTMAS GIFTS” painted on the van’s side!
A beefy old driver hopped out of the van,
Something about him said he’s a man with a plan.
And, I knew in a moment he came here to help,
When he parked at my house and let out this loud yelp:
“Now drones! Now doll houses! Now bikes and X-boxes!”
“And, remote control cars! And, Star Wars robots-es!”
“To the biggest of toys, to the ones that are quite small,
I can fix them; I can fix them; I can repair them all!”
He got out of the van and opened its back door,
Stepped in and surveyed his tools spread on the floor.
He loaded his tool belt with screws, glue, tape, and wires,
A volt meter, soldering iron and two pair of pliers!
Outfitted in cargo pants with loops, pockets and flaps,
He wore a red flannel shirt and a faded Cubs cap.
His work boots were worn and matted with mud.
He grabbed his toolbox and jumped down with a thud!
His eyes they were bright and oh how they twinkled,
His red, bulbous nose protruded from cheeks that were wrinkled!
His lips were quite thin but he smiled with a dash,
His mouth framed by an enormous handle-bar mustache!
The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a giant beer belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old gent,
But I shuttered to think what I’d see when he bent!
But 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 fixed all the kids’ toys, then turned with a smirk!
He packed up his toolbox with great satisfaction,
And departed the home of this finished transaction.
Unloading his tools, he fired up the old van,
And away he drove to the next stop in his plan.
As he drove out of sight, I heard him exclaim,
“Happy New Year to you, now enjoy the bowl games!”