For the past several years, we have made a pilgrimage to Williamsburg, Va., chiefly to delight the heart of my oldest child — Sandra, my wife. While she enjoys Colonial Williamsburg and Jamestown, the biggest draw for her is Christmas Town at Busch Gardens.

She enjoys walking around for hours to look at the lights. Christmas Town boasts a display of 10 million lights. Sandra acts like her job is to inspect each and every light for purity and clarity.

So on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, we drove to Williamsburg, checked in at the Williamsburg Plantation Resort, unpacked the car and headed to Christmas Town. Our accommodations were only 15 minutes from the front gate. Of course, we sat in the line to enter the parking lot for 30 minutes.

Then we had to move over several lanes. For some reason, the genius who designed the parking entrance decided to shrink eight lanes down to two or three. I doubt he received his engineering degree from William and Mary.

Once we parked, we made the trek to the front entrance. Then we had to go to the place where employees scan the tickets and actually grant admission to the park. Only at this point did our real Christmas Town experience begin.

I had not minded the visit to Christmas Town … at first. I fully anticipated the train would be running and the sky rides would be functional. You see, these modes of transportation help minimize the steps along paths that seem to go from Mariana’s Trench to the top of Mount Everest.

For those who are geographically challenged, Mariana’s Trench is the earth’s lowest known point — a trench nearly 7 miles deep in the North Pacific. You could drop Mount Everest into Mariana’s Trench and have 2 miles of water left over. I am not sure what was more challenging — the exertion of the climbs upward or the balancing act on the descents.

I needed a Sherpa guide.

We spent several hours walking and snapping photos. By the time we left, my back was aching and my attitude was worse. The morning after, I penned these words — with apologies to Dr. Seuss:

Mike:

That Christmas Town!

That Christmas Town!

I do not like that Christmas Town!

Sandra:

Would you like it full of light?

Would you like it late at night?

Mike:

I do not like it full of light.

I do not like it late at night.

I do not like that Christmas Town.

Look at my face and see my frown.

Sandra:

Would you like a New France visit?

Would you like an Irish “‘Tis it?”

Mike:

I would not like a New France visit

Or a cheery Irish “‘Tis it.”

I do not like that Christmas Town.

Look at my face and see my frown.

Sandra:

Would you like to cross that bridge?

Would you like to climb that ridge?

Would you like to see the moat?

Would you like to pass a goat?

Mike:

Not on a bridge, not up a ridge.

Not by a moat, not with a goat.

Not full of light, not late at night.

Not a France visit nor an Irish “Tis it.”

I do not like that Christmas Town.

Look at my face and see my frown.

Sandra:

Would you like to take a walk?

Would you like to hear me talk?

Do you like my “Oohs” and “Ahs”?

Did you see old Santa Claus?

Mike:

Not on a walk or hearing your talk.

Not “Oohs” and “Ahs”

And not Santa Claus.

Not on a bridge, not up a ridge.

Not by a moat, not with a goat.

Not full of light, not late at night.

Not a France visit nor an Irish “Tis it.”

I do not like that Christmas Town.

Look at my face and see my frown.

When Sandra finally got up around 1 p.m. on Monday, I read these words to her. She laughed and laughed. Then she said I should share this poem with you.

I just did.

Blame her.

Mike Parker is a columnist for The Neuse News. You can reach him at mparker16@gmail.com .