Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse. The stockings were hidden in the closet with care, Because I was sure that no one would look there. The children were upstairs, sleeping away, Too old to be looking for Santa and his sleigh. Mr. W had fallen asleep watching TV, So the only one conscious in the whole house was me. Out of the corner of my eye I spied quite a sight, From the star shaped decoration that held a tea light. The soft mellow flame had grown quite a bit higher, As the small cup of wax began to catch fire. I blew and I blew, but it did me no good. The air did not extinguish the flames as it should. Mr. W woke from his short Christmas nap, And rushed to my aid as quick as a snap. He blew, just like me, which made matters worse, Unsure what to do, we started to curse. Mr. W grabbed the star, fast as a wink, And rushed the whole mess right to the sink. When he doused it with water, flames only j...