A Not So 'Merry' Eighth Day of Christmas
By Voodoo Thursday

Monday, December 20th, 2004

Dear Diary,
Well lucky me, it's that time again. Oh yes, you guessed it. Today was the eighth day of Christmas and this year has not been any better than previous years. I haven't written you since I found out my part in this pair of lover's lives, so it would be best to catch you up. A little over a week ago I received my letter, as I do every year, as to which role I would play in the lover's Christmas. And by my lack of excitement, I'm sure you've guessed that I am once again Maid Number seven out of the Eight Maids a Milking. Not Maid Number one, two, or even three … Maid Number seven. Oh what joyous news.

I officially loathe Christmas, not to mention all the men that send their girlfriends birds and trees as presents, but I'll discuss that later. I mean I'm not a horrible dancer. I have never stepped on anyone's toes and I can do a pretty mean tango. So why couldn't I be one of the Nine Ladies Dancing? No, those parts are reserved for the girlfriends of the Ten Lords a Leaping. You know the ones I'm talking about. Those dainty little angels who prance around while their gorgeous boyfriends leap from here to there. It's sickening. Though, truth be told, I'd rather be a Lady Dancing with a Lord a Leaping than Maid Number Seven who has Piper Number Nine breathing down her neck.

Oh, I cannot begin to comprehend what would drive these men to send their girlfriends trees, birds, maids, drummers and the like. I mean, talk about a way to get your girlfriend to break it off. Though, I am rather fond of the five golden rings. If Piper Number Nine gave me those rather than play his pipe in my ear, I would surely be his. Actually, that's a lie. I'd take the five golden rings and leave him to be Piper Number Nine for the rest of his life. I'm worth more than his love.

But I digress; I'm supposed to be telling you about my day. The good news first, just because that's how it happened chronologically. Before we are presented to the "oh-so-lucky" girl, everyone from all twelve days relaxes in the dressing room. So there I was, getting ready to be a lovely Maid a Milking when I accidentally bumped into Drummer Number Twelve. Now reflecting back on Piper Number Nine, I'd go for the Drummer even if he didn't give me five golden rings. We chatted about holidays and what we do when we're not being given as gifts, but our conversation was quickly cut short seeing as I had to go do my job.

This was the worst part of all. It was freezing. The little lover boy had his heart set on giving us to his girl while we stood outside in the snow. Do you know how hard it is to milk, let alone in the snow? And I'm assuming you haven't seen our outfits. We look like Cinderella when she's hanging out with the mice. It's not warm at all. But that's not the half of it! People assume that the Eight Maids a Milking milk a cow, or maybe even a goat, and normally we do. It was too cold this year for farm animals, so what do we milk you ask? A cat. A cat! I'm all scratched up thanks to it. Oh and is it really good luck to have a bird go to the bathroom on you? I don't think it is. But if that's true then I'm the luckiest girl in the world seeing as the Partridge, the turtle doves, the calling birds, the French hens, the geese a laying and the swans a swimming all seemed to mistake me for the bathroom. What luck I have.

I tell you, if I don't get to be a Lady Dancing next year or even Maid Number One, my maid costume is being hung up permanently. Well it's time to go sleep so I can be awake for tomorrow. We get to watch the Nine Ladies Dancing. Oh Whoop-dido.

Love Always (despite my complaints),
Maid Number Seven

A/N: I wrote this for the essay that they assign the ninth graders every year at the beginning of the year. We're asked to write about any holiday, in any way, shape, or form. We also get graded on how much the class likes it, so I think this is a good way to find out I should use this, or write something new.