I wrote a Christmas list for my parents
I hope they’ll get everything on it
From the gift cards to the knick-knacks and
Those fuzzy toe socks

They drive to the mall, fight for a spot
In the parking lot laden with cars
It’s twenty to ten, and already there’s
No place to park

They’re waiting in line in whatever store they
Happen to be in this very moment
The salesgirl is scanning items over her register
Her arms will have muscles when she’s done

Lines are forming down to the food court
Shoppers are bitching and stepping onto shoes
All the while they’re taking out their
Wall-all-ets

And some of them are writing out checks
But all of them try not to blow a fuse
They’re tired and they’re hoping sometime
They can pee

And help themselves to some lunch in the food court
And let their minds go straight to their budgets
Remind themselves not to go over their spending limits
Unless they want to remain in debt