CHRISTMAS STALL: the holiday from a kid’s perspective

This is a true poem about Christmas morning, at least how I remember it growing up. Happy Holidays!

presents‘Twas the morning of Christmas, I woke from my sleep
and listened for voices, but heard not a peep.

My parents, still sleeping, but I couldn’t stand it.
I jumped from the floor, on their mattress I landed.

They slowly awoke, and I ran to the tree
to see shiny wrapped presents there waiting for me.

But dad in the kitchen, just reading the news,
and mom making coffee. What was the snooze?

Didn’t they know I had waited all year
to unwrap my gifts and be filled with cheer?wreath

I think that they did as they smirked at each other,
my dad laughing softly, a wink from my mother.

I sat on the couch with a pout on my face
while bacon fried loudly, then eggs took its place.

They made me eat breakfast. They made me digest.
I waited and waited while they took a rest.

And just when I thought that my head would explode.
My parents stood up, and then I was told,

“When we were young kids we both had to wait
to open our gifts after we cleaned our plate.”

“And when you’re grown up, you’ll do Christmas stall.santa
Now open your gifts that we bought from the mall!”

As I dug in those boxes with glee and delight
I was glad that they hadn’t waited ‘til night.

I decided right then not to stall my kids thrill,
‘though I’m sure, like my parents, I probably will.

Merry Christmas!

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CHRISTMAS STALL: the holiday from a kid’s perspective

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