The children call me Daddy, Grandpa called me Doc,

Sister's call me Deanboy, on xanga I'm ToadSuck.

I'm mighty glad I ain't a girl, ruther it  be a boy,

Without them sashes, curls, an' things that's worn by Fauntleroy!

I love to box a round or two…and fish for salmon in the lake.

Hate to get a pinch of aspirin they give for bad headaches.

'Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain't no flies on me,

But jest 'fore Christmas I'm as good as I kin be!

Owned a nice brown hammer. ..the likes you’ve never seen.

I could hammer anything of glass, like china sets for tea.

Had me once a real nice rope. Upstairs lived my 4 sisters.

I’d tie my rope ‘round both doorknobs to lock ‘em just for pleasure.

Then momma’d hear ‘em scream and such, and have to set them free.

But jest ‘foe Christmas, I’d be as good as I could be.

So many trips we’d take, crossing bridge and countryside

To get to greener pastures we knew on the other side

And in the car I’d take my shoes off and jump from seat to seat,

Pullin’ hair and telling’ jokes, and make my sister’s smell my feet.

But sometimes when our parents would get all worrited and cross,

Momma’d reach back with her hand to remind us who was boss.

And I’d ‘jes laff and holler, “Oh, you’ll never teched me!”

‘Cept jest foe Christmas when I’z as good as I could be.

Gran’ma said that when I grow’d up and got all bearded,

I’d be a missiaria-hulio, like her brother, Uncle Leonard.

As was known for beating cats, like those of Ceylon’s Isle,

Cause when they‘d mew and purr it seemed to cramp his music style.

But I’ve been to foreign countries, & my house’s good enough for me,

Except the day be-foe Christmas, when I’m as good as I can be.

Then, I am so perlite an ‘tend so earnestly to biz,

That daddy says to mother, “How improved my junior is!”

But keeping up the “goodness” has it’s limit for boy’s like me,

So Christmas Day, if you please, I'll steer clear of ye!

The day we celebrate together, has much stress, work and noise

It’s made, I say, for peaceful folk, and not for anxious boys

I need my rest to be my best, and not song, poetry, or pros

So you understand on Christmas Day I’ll plan my own devo.

Thinkin’ of all the things you’d like sittin’ round the family tree

You'll see me there, the day BEFORE, when I'm as good as I can be!