My stocking runneth over

As much as I grumble about Christmas, I do enjoy gathering my friends together for a day of celebration and merriment. This year, I tried to better plan the menu so that I could spend more time with my guests and less time in the kitchen. For the most part, the plan worked. I got everything roasted, glazed and tossed – and the smoke cleared out of the house – before everyone arrived. Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas without a chorus or two from the smoke alarms.

At some point in the afternoon, the little girls in attendance conspired to write a poem; they passed it around the dinner table and made all the adults sign it, but I wasn't allowed to see it. Then they gathered us in my office for the poetry slam. The two older girls read, while the youngest hid behind the chair and was responsible for sound effects.


(click on the poem if you'd like to read it)
As K. and K. listed off each of my animals, we heard R. making the corresponding whinny, hee-haw, oink, baaaah, meows, and arffs, from behind the chair.


Yes, she is too cute for words, and their poem was the greatest gift of all.