Twas the night before Christmas and at Langrish school,
Mrs Elrick was still busy cleaning the pool.
Mrs Wright and Miss Flack are all set to jump in,
Just the moment the whole thing’s been refilled with gin.
Miss Rhodes and Mrs Rigden are feeling quite faint,
In a Year R explosion of glitter and paint.
All the glue and the glitz-spattered walls surely mean,
The last lesson was resourced and planned by Mrs Kean.
Mrs S and Mr Hancox are in quite a flap,
As they try to stick back up their giant World map.
They’ve been banned from the ladder but now look quite mad,
As they attempt it by trampoline (like the John Lewis ad).
But look out the window! Something just flew right by!
Could it be Santa’s sleigh as he glides through the sky?
With his sleigh bells a-jingling and presents all wrapped?
No, it’s Miss Fiers’ laptop – she’s finally snapped.
Along in year six there’s a strange sight to see.
A duvet, a camp bed, a portable TV.
“Why is Miss Jones in hiding?” I hear you all cry.
Three daughters…at Christmas! Oh, now I see why!
Now Mandy and Caro are still getting emails,
(They can’t take time off or the whole system derails).
With such a full inbox, how will they get through it?
Another mug each of mulled wine ought to do it.
Across in year five a loud noise makes me jump,
There’s a crash and a crunch and a whack and a thump.
I peep through the door and there Mrs Jones sits,
With a mallet, smashing gingerbread houses to bits.
Down outside year two there’s a blue flashing light,
Mrs Pruden’s got fake wings and is dressed in pure white,
Being dragged off by two burly ambulance men,
Screaming “WHOOPS-A-DAISY!!!!” over and over again.
So as Miss Andrews and Mrs Baigent both snore,
Still drunk from the Christmas do one week before,
From us all here at Langrish and, of course, Mrs Wright,
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.