T’Was the night before Christmas

And there was only one small glitch

The athletes were in stinging pain

Ripped hands are a bitch!

They tossed and turned, raw wounds stinging in their beds

While visions of thin, smooth calluses danced in their heads

And I with my polysporin that got smeared all over my cap

Had reluctantly settled down for a messy winter’s nap

When near the pull-up bars there arose such a clatter

It was obvious to all nothing was the matter

Santa Class had RIPT kits for all hands to be tamed

And he whistled and shouted and called the products by name:

Now Daily Dose, now Quick Fix, now Grind Stone too!

On bees wax! On Shea butter! On Vitamin E! On leaf oil!

To to top of your clean and through the rings to all

Dash away rips, cracked and dry skin, dash away all!

With all natural ingredients, he smiled and gave a whistle,

It’s time for all hands to lose their thick callused thistles

From rowers to CrossFit athletes to gymnasts, left and right

Happy hands to all and to all a good night!