‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a tool was a-working, not even the Mouse.
The wrenches were hung by the workbench with care,
In hopes that the HIP Chick soon would be there.
The drill bits were nestled all snug in their bin
While visions of lumber made their tips spin.
And Pappa with his tool belt, and I in my cap
Had just woken up from a homeowner’s nap,
When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the garage I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and heard a big crash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
Lit up the pile of the DIY objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a shiny green tractor, made by John Deere,
With a sassy little driver so peppy and quick
I knew in a moment it must be HIP CHICK.
More rapid than jigsaws the products they came
She whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now, Kohler! Now Hunter! Now Maytag and Moen!
On Stanley! On Behr, Ryobi and Glidden!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall
Now sand away! Roll away! Paint away all!”
As drywall screws bind the wall to the stud
And you’ve all but given the hammer a thud,
So up to the housetop the toolboxes piled
While the HIP Chick simply stood there and smiled.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
The whirl of a drill, ‘twas not so aloof.
As I thought in my head and was turning around
Down the chimney the HIP Chick came with a bound.
She was dressed all in red from her head to her foot
And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of tools she held in her arms
Nuts and bolts hung from a bracelet as charms.
Her eyes – how they sparkled! Her dimples – how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses with lipstick so cherry
Her smile so white, drawn up like a bow
And with fingers to lips, a kiss did she blow.
The stump of a pencil she held tight in her teeth
With chestnut brown hair braided up like a wreath.
She left us varied books on construction
That came with so much detailed instruction.
So sassy and smart, this home improvement chick
And I laughed as she showed me a DIY trick.
A wink of her eye and a nod of her head
Told me I could learn lots from the gal wearing red.
She spoke not a word as she set up supplies
This girl can sure rival the DIY guys
And laying a drill driver right under my tree
She whispered a quiet “Merry Christmas” to me,
She went out the front door, and hopped on the Deere.
Wishing me a successful DIY year
I heard the HIP Chick as she drove out of view.
You can be smart, confident and capable, too.
Original Poem “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement C. Moore
Adaptation by Beth Allen, HIP Chicks 2012
