Not Again Poem by B. V. Dahlen

'Twas two weeks before Christmas
And out in the field,
The Unit was learning
It's weapons to wield.

The wives and the kids
Back at home were a mess
With last minute shopping
And gift wrapping, no less

While the Daddies in tents
Were without even beds,
The kids were all counting
Their gifts in their heads,

The Moms were still sewing
And baking and such,
Still chasing the toddler'
And screaming, 'Don't touch'.

The tree must be bought
And kept hidden away,
Then Junior informs you
That his class has a play,

And 'Could you please sew
Up a costume real quick'.
For a moment you feel
That you just may be sick.

'Tis the week before Christmas
And your Hubby is back,
Though you know it's not toys
He has crammed in his pack,

But bundles and bundles
Of dirty field gear.
All that Daddy wants now
Is to relax with a beer

So you stand there a moment
And wonder perhaps
If you had a spare minute,
Would you dare to collapse?

But deep in your heart
With a smile and a tear,
You know with the Army
It'll happen next year.

We were never quite issued,
But never-the-less
We've become quite adept
As we juggle this mess.

After all why be grumpy,
And sorry and sore,
For isn't this all
What an Army Wife's for.