We're pretty staunch when it comes to supporting all things D. I don't like to discriminate, but if forced to choose, I'll always choose the diabetic brand. We only use diabetic dish detergent (fruity breath scent); we landscape with only diabetes-friendly shrubs and flowers and in the summers we go fishing in only diabetic waters.

That said, when Christmas comes around, we only sing diabetes Christmas songs in our household. Classics such as Have Yourself a Merry Little Bolus, The Little Pumper Boy and I Saw Mommy Ripping the Insurance Rep a New One fill our home with yuletide cheer.

And who can forget this classic adaptation of Let it Snow.

Bet He's Low!

Oh, my son's blood sugars are frightful
Of course Ms. Berry's are delightful
And since his eyes look like a Picasso
I bet he's low, bet he's low, bet he's low

It doesn't show signs of stopping
And I think he'll soon be dropping
Now he's talking like Brigitte Bardot
I bet he's low, bet he's low, bet he's low

When we finally say good night
We'll flinch with every moan, fart or yawn
We'll hold the Glucagon oh so tight
And test him each hour 'til dawn

We'll wake with heavy sighing
Our eyes we're slowly prying
Now he's sucking on his big toe
I bet he's low, bet he's low, bet he's low

Big finish (everybody now)

I bet he's low!

I bet he's low!

I BET HE'S , (drum solo)

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!