Dear Santa, please could you let me win the lottery I'm fed up with my job.

What you have to do for a crust and earn a couple of bob.

And can you let it snow this Xmas six feet at the least

For then hopefully I won't see the in-laws for this year's festive feast.

With any luck they'll be stuck at home and stranded in the snow

For they get entrenched when they come to us and don't know when to go.

The wife and I haven't been alone since the day that we were wed,

Her mother's round here all the time, she might as well bring her bed.

Even the kids complain that granny seems to be here quite a lot

She nags and moans and interferes and doesn't give a jot.

That they're studying for their "A" levels and need some peace and space

And if they see her car in time to their bedrooms they all race.

For they shudder when she kisses them for she's a wart upon her chin

With bristly hairs protruding which tickles their soft skin.

And she brings her old and slobbering dog, incontinent and fat,

So the wife has to put disinfectant upon the kitchen mat.

"Oh! Poor diddums," says ma-in-law, "has she gone again?"

Looking at the damp patch where the dog has lain.

I wish we lived in a castle with a drawbridge and a moat

And they wouldn't be able to invade us even with a boat.

We have to watch her favourite prog. but thankfully I sleep

It's the best part of the day when from here there's not a peep.

But everything comes to he who waits and for me it's when she leaves

With pa-in-law and dog in tow to the car she slowly weaves

For she's had a drop too much to drink and it's gone right to her head.

Perhaps next year we'll be really brave and go abroad instead.

– Marigold Pritchard, Coleford.