‘Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the houses,
Not a creature was stirring, they’d all been to Rouses.
The stockings were hung from the chimney, chér,
Gift cards fromRouses already placed there.
The gift baskets were made, no need to wrap,
Rouses had already taken care of that.
Mama in her kerchief, and me in fleur-de-lis cap,
Had just settled in for a little lagniappe.
When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter,
I jumped up to go find out what was the matter.
The dog, I figured, had knocked over the trash
Or one of the kids had found my secret candy stash.
But what to my wondering eyes should appear?
Why Santa himself, a fork held dear.
He’d taken out platters of Rouses Cajun Specialty meats,
Fresh local seafood, spiral hams and all kinds of treats.
An empty plate sat where Mama’s crown roast had been.
He’d already eaten Rouses famous turduchen.
The Gulf shrimp platter had been completely devoured.
That alone must have taken him hours.
All of Rouses finger sandwiches were gone.
So were the cinnamon rolls topped with pecans.
I thought he’d stop after the petit fours,
But there was more.
Now, sweet potatoes! Now, oyster dressing!
Now, green bean casserole!
Now fresh baked bread, buns, and dinner rolls!
Evenour Rouses freshbakedpies hadbeen cut into slices.
(Thank goodness we’d bought them
at Rouses everyday low prices.)
Bite after bite, Santa ate and ate,
Till at last he’d cleaned every plate.
Then I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight.
Thanks for the food, see you next flight!
Rouses Night Before Christmas
with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
