Dear Judge,
I know I killed my True Love in a fit of rage but I think, once you hear my tale, you will have to acknowledge that I was provoked beyond what any reasonable person could stand.
Things started off well. On the first day of Christmas, my True Love sent me a partridge in a pear tree. A little weird, I thought, but I let that pass. To be honest, as the first day of Christmas is Christmas Day, I’d have preferred a turkey.
On the second day he sent me two turtle doves. Romantic, because I believe they mate for life, so I could see the symbolism. But he also sent me another partridge in a pear tree. Why?
Next day it was three French hens (or should I say, trois French hens? My little joke, Judge. I still had a sense of humour at that point) – plus two more doves and another partridge in a pear tree.
On the fourth day I was afraid to open the door to the postman. I was right to be afraid: ten birds arrived that morning, four of which were colly birds. Is there anyone on the planet who knows what a colly bird is? I think my True Love made that one up, or he meant calling birds and the shop saw a chance to finally offload the 36 colly birds they had lying around in the storeroom which they had ordered by accident.
Probably guessing from my enraged texts and emails that by now I was a little miffed, he had the good sense to send me five gold rings on day five of Christmasgate. I was mollified enough to think it would be okay to accept day six’s gift. Boy, was I ever wrong! Six – count them: one-two-three-four-five-SIX – geese-a-laying. The eggs would have been acceptable but I couldn’t get near them. Do you know how protective geese are of their eggs? I still have the bill marks on my legs. And it’s not nice to be hissed at by 42 geese (yes, 42; because he sent me six more geese who wouldn’t share every day for the next six days); it’s like being in a really bad pantomime in the comfort of my own home, though there’s not much comfort with 184 birds running around, making a racket and pooping like there’s no tomorrow. Which there wasn’t for those I managed to store in my freezer… Not to mention the 42 goslings under my feet, imprinting on me. It made shopping impossible.
You did read that right, Judge: 184 birds is what my True Love sent to me. 226, if you count the babies.
But he saved the best for last, which I’ll call Day Seven, because it was. I may have been a little unhinged by this point. I refused to open the door so the delivery truck left my idiot boyfriend’s ridiculous idea of a love token in my tiny back garden: seven swans-a-swimming. Seven swans-a-swimming! You know what that means, don’t you? An inflatable pool! In my pocket garden! And not just one inflatable pool, oh no! SIX inflatable pools, because he sent me the same gift for the next five days, along with eight maids-a-milking, nine ladies dancing (I don’t even watch Strictly), ten lords-a-leaping (I’m interested in politics, yes, but not to the point of inviting the second chamber into my home – and the ornaments those old codgers broke…), eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming, right through my skull.
By the time I got the injunction against my True Love, it was too late – the neighbours had complained about the smell, the music played at full volume at all hours of the day and night, and the illegal poultry farm I had set up, and I was evicted by the council through the Anti-Social Behavioural law. I was homeless, penniless (I had spent all my money on bird seed and feeding my guests) and furious – mostly because all swans are owned by the Crown, so my True Love had scuppered the chance of me being on any future Honours List.
I admit to seeking out my True Love who, while big on romantic gestures, was a slacker when it came to paying for the upkeep of all those birds or feeding 140 people – though the poultry and the eighty buckets of milk did come in handy there, I’ll accept.
I also admit to pelting him with rock hard pears (they were out of season; what was the silly beggar thinking?) and, when that didn’t work, belting him with as many pipes, drums and drumsticks as I could lay my hands on. But the death stroke was, I’m convinced, administered by the swans, who didn’t like it when, weighed down by 40 gold rings, I fell into one of their pools and almost drowned.
So, dear Judge, I think you can see that I acted under extreme provocation while the balance of my mind was disturbed and my feet were in three tons of guano.
If you let me off, I will be free to marry one of the drummers, Bill, who has promised to give me only chocolates, toiletries and DVDs as Christmas presents.
I throw myself on the mercy of the court.
Signed, The Moulting Housewife
I have never heard the truth of this before (never was any good at math you know?) but now well in my court you would have been found not guilty, awarded a purple heart for bravery in the highest, an academy award for being able to star among all the fine feathered friends. and perhaps the Noble for tolerating all those women in YOUR house and I know they are true Diva’s …now that I think about it you should probable get another purple heart for bravery, keys to the city and a trip to Cancun!!! 😉
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Remind me to visit you when I commit my next crime 🙂
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Enjoyed it.
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Thanks 🙂
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Your version beats every other one that I have ever heard. Brilliant.
Pedantic Viv reckons colly birds are collared (or collard) doves.
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That makes three versions that I know of 🙂 I reckon the writer fumbled it for the rhythm and had some fun at our expense.
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I would had killed him too – not much for alive brids in my house … and one ring is enough. Brilliant job here, Linda.
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Thank you, Wivi 🙂
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I haven’t laughed this much for ages – get it published – brilliant!
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Thank you 😀
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fANTASTIC.. that really had me glued to my seat until I had read every last word and I am going to reblog cos it was so funny
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Thank you 🙂
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Reblogged this on I've been thinking about…………. and commented:
this came fome my friend TillyB..The Laughing Housewife who was not laughing at the time of this happening but you sure will be when you read it
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Really Funny – I enjoyed it!
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Thanks!
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If there is to be punishment, it should be meted out to the song’s creator. Worst. Christmas. Song. Ever.
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Thank you for your contribution, Mr Grinch 😀
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You are hilarious, I giggled and giggled, thanks I needed that!
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I’m glad you giggled but sorry you needed it 😦
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Now that is funny!!! Well done.
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Thank you!
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This was hysterical! Thank you so much for such a good morning laugh!
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My pleasure 🙂
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Haha! I needed this early morning laugh!
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Glad to help 🙂
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Oh my goodness! That was too funny!
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love it!
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This is the best post you have written. Love it. Read every word and even listened to the whole song. I love this song. Merry Christmas to you. Dianne
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And to you. Thanks for the flattery 🙂
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Reblogged this on myownheart.me and commented:
ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL! TILLY B HAS STRUCK AGAIN!!
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Thanks 😀 😀 😀
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Thanks for stopping by and liking my blogs, as I said before you are AWESOME. Watched & read your latest blog, “Loved It”, I need to visit your blog site to keep me in check. LOL I Love, Love your Christmas blog site, don’t you just Love the snow effect they gave us. Have A Great Weekend.
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I do love the snow. Did you know it moves opposite to your mouse? Al told me.
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Does Bill know what he’s letting himself in for?
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heehee 😀
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And to think, he could have you undying love for just one box of Maltesers.
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Foolish man!
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I loved it Tilly!!!!
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not sure I ever thought about this song in this way before…..
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HILARIOUS!!!
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Tilly this is why I nominated you for the Blogger of the Year Award 2012. You are going to be miffed perhaps but you do so deserve it. It will be the last because I am never nominating anyone again because when you read my post you will see why. Love your talents.
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Thank you for thinking of me 🙂
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Just too funny for words….just loved it.
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Thank you and as Judge Judy I will forgive you however your True Love has been arrested because he also defaulted on the bill payments.
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Hehe! Good one! Thanks for pardoning me.
I can’t return your visit; do you have a blog link?
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Very funny, Tilly… sounds like you had a full house!
By the way, I know what a colly bird is. 😉
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Do tell!
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Loved this! I needed a touch of humor…Christmas can really get…well…Christmasie…
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I’m sorry to hear that 😦
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That is awesome Tilly!
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😀 Thanks 😀
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This is brilliant! 🙂
Mostly I seem to hear people saying ‘calling birds’ rather than ‘colly’ birds, so it’s great to see the original word being used again. 🙂
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too cute!! Love it! I can’t remember how much money it was, but I did see on the news how much it would cost if one purchased everything that was on the list for the 12 days of Christmas. What one would do with all that stuff would be indeed an adventure!
betty
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Men never think of these things, do they?
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If the judge doesn’t see it your way, he should be removed from the bench – thanks for the laugh 😀
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Welcome to the club! You are hysterical though. 😆 😎
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This is fabulous, and makes the fact that I’m about to start making Christmas dinner for 9 a little less stressful. It’s all about perspective… at least I don’t have all those birds under feet (just one… and the turkey is ver dead ;-))
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This is my favourite post of yours so far. Absolutely brilliant!!!!!!!!!!!!
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♡♥♡Happy 6WS! 🙂 ♡♥♡
l simply love this! I would find you NOT GUILTY if I were on your jury. Obviously, that was a justifiable act anyone can see that. 🙂
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Thank you! I think so, too. 😀
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Quackers. Completely quackers.
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I can’t blame you why. Thos gifts can drive one crazy. Thanks for a great laugh! Merry Christmas to you and your family.
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Thank you; and to you 🙂
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New version for me. I would hate a house that full
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Sounds tragic. I feel bad for both of you. : )
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😦 Thanks 🙂
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Reblogged this on Celestial Silver Road and commented:
Ok, this is a hilarious take on the 12 days of Christmas! love it!
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Thanks for the re blog!
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Loved it Tilly Bud!
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