'Twas the night before Christmas, the sleigh was all set,
But Santa had data he couldn't forget.
He looked at his sensor, the arrow was straight,
A perfect 100 — a number so great.
He adjusted the pump underneath his red vest,
Preparing for travel and feeling his best.
"The night will be long," he remarked with a grin,
"With billions of cookies just waiting to win."
"I need to be bold," Santa said to the deer,
"I've listened to podcasts throughout the whole year.
We don't fear the insulin, don't fear the food,
We just get the timing to set up the mood."
He programmed a bolus before taking flight,
To cover snickerdoodles planned for the night.
"I'll wait fifteen minutes," he shouted out loud,
To the elves and the helpers who stood in the crowd.
He sprang to the sleigh, gave the reindeer a cue,
"We've got a long flight and a job we must do.
Now Dasher, now Dancer — stay focused and quick,
No time for a low or for feeling quite sick."
He slid down the chimney, his pump in his pocket,
And flew 'round the world like a red-suited rocket.
The cookies were frosted, the milk was whole-fat,
But Santa knew exactly how to handle all that.
Once over the ocean, a beep filled the air,
A diagonal drop gave the reindeer a scare.
"Relax," shouted Santa, "I see the slight drop.
I'll sip on this Juicebox and cause it to stop."
The drop leveled off with a graceful glide,
The arrow stopped falling and turned to the side.
He viewed the results with a satisfied glance,
Leaving nothing to fear and nothing to chance.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
As he shouted out loud, "That data looks right!
Happy Christmas to all — may your numbers be tight."
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