Years have flown by and now I look back.
To times of Santa coming to our house, toys in his pack,
Children sneaking down the hall to take a peek,
Myself (Santa I guess) still up at 2 AM guarding the tree.
"Back to bed with all of you or Santa will never come."
Actually, he'd already come, left lots of stuff and then some.
Finally, it is a silent night and I am off to bed,
Visions of their morning happiness dance in my head.
5 AM, little feet, six pairs of them, hit the floor.
I wake confused...Morning, night? Christmas for sure.
"This pile is mine, Wait a minute it's dark I can't see
Mama, he got my radio. Tell him the purple one is for me!"
"Why did Santa not eat the cookies we left out last night?
Mama, tell her this is mine she needs to be quite!
I only asked for one doll and I got three!
No, you didn't, that's my side of the tree."
"Open this, get that out, put the batteries in.
Did you see Santa? Did he tell you where he'd been?
I am sleepy, I didn't get anything good.
Hey, show me how this works if you would."
Early morning turns to noon, then night,
Christmas Day over, my house what a sight
The kids in bed now sleeping sound,
Boxes, bows, batteries, and toys all around.
As I turn out the lights and close the door,
I say I am glad Christmas is over for sure.
Days of purchasing, planning all over in a blink,
Another Christmas gone and forgotten I think.
I once was young and not very wise.
Now I am old I guess, thinking about how time flies.
I know I can't go back and redo a single day,
But it would be nice to sit again and watch my children play.
With trucks and trains, dolls and bikes,
To see the house look like such a terrible sight,
To see them all sleeping soundly as I turn out the light,
To have one open his eyes and hear him whisper,
"Merry Christmas, I love you, Good Night."