‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not an ultrabook was whirring, not a touchpad nor mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
With hopes they were stuffed with Thunderbolt MacBook Airs.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Galaxy Tabs danced in their heads.
And ma in her ‘kerchief, and I with my apps,
Had settled our texting thumbs for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my standing desk to see what was the matter.
To the Nest thermostat I flew like a flash,
I turned up the heat, and to the window I dashed.
Santa couldn’t compete with the gadgets we owned,
And his new Nissan Leaf was running on low,
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”