Santa’s Last Gift

I crept down the stairs on Christmas morn,

The day we celebrate that Christ was born,

With trees and lights and wrapping galore.

With gifts and carols and so much more.

 

All brought to us by a man in a sleigh,

Deliveries made in one single day.

So I was excited at what might be

Waiting for me under the Christmas tree.

 

But you will never believe at what I found

But Santa’s big butt so jolly and round

Stuck in my chimney his feet were flailing

Cries of help up the chimney were wailing.

 

I wanted to help but what could I do?

Should I push, do I pull or open the flue?

But as I looked, I giggled, then hooted.

Then to make matters worse, Santa, he tooted!

 

I laughed so hard I fell to the floor

Laughing and giggling for a moment more,

That is when I was hit by Santa’s plume

As lactose induced gas filled up the room.

 

My eyes watered as my family filed in

Staring at me, where do I begin

I cried out it was Santa who farted

One final gift before he departed.

 

But I can see on their face how they feel

Not one of them believes Santa is real.

So now its tradition on Christmas Day

For them to give me air freshening spray.

Midnight Delivery

I crept down the stairs, hoping the steps would not squeak. I paused and looked through the railing. The living room was dark except for the halo of lights strung on the Christmas tree.

I looked at the digital clock and it pulsed 11:59.

Goosebumps ran up my arm and neck as a blast of cold air so sudden and brief sent the ornaments on the tree to swaying.

I stood up and looked over the railing as I continued down the stairs.

CREAK!

I paused, my foot on the squeaky step and looked back upstairs to my parents’ room. Dad’s low, rumbling snore assured me that he was still asleep.

Tiptoeing the rest of the way down the stairs and into the living room, I noticed that the plate of cookies was empty save for a few crumbs.

Another chill went up my spine as I stepped in a boot print of water in the middle of the floor.

Something by the tree rustled and I caught my breath. Two eyes glowed in the flashing Christmas lights.

“A puppy!” I squealed.

I knelt onto the floor and opened the kennel door. Rustling came from upstairs as the puppy bound out of the kennel and licked my face.

I looked for the dog tags, but there weren’t any. I was sure I had heard them jingling.

Dad yawned and turned to mom as they both whispered at the same time, “I thought we agreed no puppy this year.”

Two Big Bites

“Eat all of your vegetables or no dessert for you,” called Momster. “Tonight we have Spooky Shadow Eye Scream with Whipped Cream!”

Molly pushed her candy corn and snapped peas around her plate.

“Two more big bites! Monsters need their vegetables to grow up big and scary!”

Ugh! Why did vegetables have to be so sweet? Molly sloshed them around in her mouth. She would prefer crispy crickets or fried bat wings.

“Take one more big bite and I will let you whip the cream!” Momster coaxed.

One more bite. Who knew being a little monster would be so hard.

Monsters Are Real

I sit up in bed

As click clacking claws cross the floor

A rumble grumble

And shadows swirling by the door.

 

Under the covers

Thumping my heart beats in my head,

My eyes are closed tight

Something slithers under the bed.

 

I have just one chance

I grip my trick-or-treat bag tight

Throw down my candy

As I leap with all of my might.

 

You may laugh at me

But monsters are real I must warn

For here is my proof:

It ate all of the candy corn!