We had a bit of Christmas fun in the office today and thought we would share.  One of our Sales Executives, Matt Naranjo, decided to fill our Controller's office to the brim with red and green balloons. 

We were all very impressed at this poem that Alan sent in response.  Who said accountants can't be creative!  We hope you all have a wonderful holiday.  Normal business hours will resume on Monday, December 27th.

A Poem from your "Cheery"  accountant

Twas two days before Christmas, when all through the offices not a sales guy was stirring......the sorry louses. The paystubs were hung by the servers with care, In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children (you know who you are) were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of commissions danced in their heads.

And Tiffany in her ‘kerchief, and I (Rod) in my cap, Had just settled down for a long meeting...oh, crap.

When out in the accounting office there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the accountant I flew like a flash, Tore open the "door" and threw down some cash

The florescent lighting on the new-fallen snow Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a million balloons, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver (Naranjo), so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be....St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called everyone a name!

"Now Winslow! now, Lilly! now, Victor and Vixen!

On, Coles! On, Speck! On, Bishop and Blitzen!

To the top of the desk! to the top of the wall!

Now go away! Go away! Go away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So up to the roof-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of balloons, and Naranjo, too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Into my office came Naranjo with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of ballons he had flung on his back, And he looked like a hobo, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the office, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, back to his office he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"