'Twas the morning of Purim, when all through the bayit
Not a creature was stirring, even the kelev was quiet
The holiday so far was definitely not boring,
As the party had lasted up until the morning.
Up from the couch, I sat and rustled my hair,
Rubbing my face, I looked at my hands in despair;
Little cousins brought facepaint (seemed fun at the time),
But now, I had a face smudged with glitter-sparkle grime.
My aunt hands me a basket, looking ready to gloat,
“Did you know you’re the third one I’ve given mishloach manot?”
I thank her with a kiss, she is smug but not all bad,
Plus her hamantaschen are the best I’ve ever had!
Listening to the Megillah, “Boo Haman” fuels our calls,
Paired with grager and headache, pound my skull like wrecking balls;
I’d scream, if not for the seudah eaten previously
Extra support, of course, from a secret shot of brandy.
And now, Esther’s victory has been properly celebrated,
With the Purim spiel not at all kept g-rated,
Give Joe with a hangover Pedialyte to cure him
And wish everyone—even grumpy Joe— a freilichen Purim!
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