STORY TIME: THE TUB OF TROUBLE
After a day that was slushy and squishy and loud,
With #Super#Slush splattered on floor, wall and cloud,
Mrs Claus was DONE. Kaput. Finito. Fatigued.
Her patience? Gone. Her shoulders? Achy indeed.
“All I want,” she sighed with a dramatic small flop,
“Is a #Sleepy#Heads bath till my thoughts finally stop.
A #lavender#bath#bomb, calm bubbles galore,
And an #Achey#Goo#massage yes please, maybe more.”
She tiptoed to the bathroom, peace nearly in sight…
Then paused.
Then sniffed.
Then whispered, “That’s… not right.”
The #Happiness#spray? Its power was through.
Instead came a whiff of Grinchy ‘uh-oh’ stew.
Her emotions went NOOF!
Especially fear.
“That green furry menace has BEEN in here!”
She peeked in the tub and let out a shriek
For soaking inside was a colourful sneak.
Yellow. Red. Blue. And green calm and still,
Angel Powder had filled up the tub to the brim.
So pretty and neat.
But Mrs Claus knew… this wasn’t a treat.
From taps to tiles, from sink down to mat,
The bathroom was powdered imagine THAT.
And stuck to the mirror, bubbly and bold,
A message appeared that made her feel cold.
Not pen. Not ink. Not glue. Not goo.
But #Soapy#Sketchers mischievous too.
“I’m not finished,” it said, “not even a bit.
Being happy and kind? I admit… I liked it.
But sprays wear off, so save them for later.
Because one of your elves turned full-time traitor.
Elf Snickers McJinglepants joined my crew,
He’s in charge of the sleigh SURPRISE for you!
I ordered #Angel#Powder, loads upon loads,
Arriving just in time before Christmas mode.”
Mrs Claus gasped.
Then ran.
Then slipped.
Then ran AGAIN.
To be continued
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