Joy
December 21, 2006 09:20 AM
Personal
It all
started innocently enough.
Me, being four and feeling tough
Decided, if just to assert my best,
To challenge old Santa to a little contest.
I’d heard he was “a right jolly old elf,”
and chose to confirm this my own little self.
Please note that I am no slouch with a joke,
‘Least I always am endlessly ‘musing my folks.
So I crept down the stairway when they’d gone to bed
And hid between presents, saying nary a word.
I dozed intermittently, though I had not intended
To miss the bright moment when Santa descended.
In the wee little hours, I’d drooled down my front
but hadn’t been dreaming when I first heard a bump,
Followed by a rustle, a shuffle, and a “dang!”
As Santa untangled himself from the screen.
Mommy says to always close the fire up tight
So sparks won’t jump out and commence to ignite
The stockings we’d hung by the chimney, I care
And don’t want to burn the place down unaware.
So Santa seemed sour as he set to his work,
Severe concentration like some kind of jerk.
He would never, ever have seen me there
If I hadn’t decided to give him a scare.
“Boo!”, I exclaimed as I hopped into sight
“Good Lord!” he replied, “You just gave me a fright!
What’s a small boy like you doing downstairs
On this cold Christmas morning,” he sternly stared.
“I have to see just how jolly you are,”
I said as I peeked into his bag standing there.
“I’m a little bit hassled, a little behind
And I’d chat more with you if I felt I had time.”
“A-Ha!” I rebuked as I stood up quite tall,
“You’re not a little bit jolly at all.
You look like a grown-up and sound like one, too.
I was pretty sure I was going to be jollier than you.”
“Jollier than me?” Santa considered.
He had to admit that his focus had frittered
Most of his jollyness out of his soul
and replaced it with nothing but responsible goals.
He rose to the challenge and stuck out his belly
And began to distend it till it did shake like jelly!
Never one to lie down in the face of a challenge
I hopped up two stairs and took careful balance
Then pooched out my tummy as far as it went
And wobbled mine back and forth, back bent.
Santa’s old face lit up like a spark
And he started laughing at me in the dark.
“You’re jolly,” he praised, as he looked down at my gut
“And you’ve reminded me I’d fallen into a rut.
My real job isn’t about meeting deadlines for toys.
It’s supposed to be focused on delivering joy!”
“You’ve helped me, my lad,” Santa said with a grin
“And you’ve won this year, but next year I’ll win.”
Then he quietly opened the fireplace screen
And rose up the chimney, jollier it seemed.
By the following Christmas, I’d lost some of my joy
And forgot to remember to challenge that boy
But when I came down on that next Christmas morn,
The living room seemed most uncommonly warm.
I never saw Santa again in my life
Though I’m sure he’s appearing each Christmas Eve night
There’s this warmth in the living room, fresh and clean
In spite of the fireplace’s not-quite-closed screen.
12/20/06
david
Me, being four and feeling tough
Decided, if just to assert my best,
To challenge old Santa to a little contest.
I’d heard he was “a right jolly old elf,”
and chose to confirm this my own little self.
Please note that I am no slouch with a joke,
‘Least I always am endlessly ‘musing my folks.
So I crept down the stairway when they’d gone to bed
And hid between presents, saying nary a word.
I dozed intermittently, though I had not intended
To miss the bright moment when Santa descended.
In the wee little hours, I’d drooled down my front
but hadn’t been dreaming when I first heard a bump,
Followed by a rustle, a shuffle, and a “dang!”
As Santa untangled himself from the screen.
Mommy says to always close the fire up tight
So sparks won’t jump out and commence to ignite
The stockings we’d hung by the chimney, I care
And don’t want to burn the place down unaware.
So Santa seemed sour as he set to his work,
Severe concentration like some kind of jerk.
He would never, ever have seen me there
If I hadn’t decided to give him a scare.
“Boo!”, I exclaimed as I hopped into sight
“Good Lord!” he replied, “You just gave me a fright!
What’s a small boy like you doing downstairs
On this cold Christmas morning,” he sternly stared.
“I have to see just how jolly you are,”
I said as I peeked into his bag standing there.
“I’m a little bit hassled, a little behind
And I’d chat more with you if I felt I had time.”
“A-Ha!” I rebuked as I stood up quite tall,
“You’re not a little bit jolly at all.
You look like a grown-up and sound like one, too.
I was pretty sure I was going to be jollier than you.”
“Jollier than me?” Santa considered.
He had to admit that his focus had frittered
Most of his jollyness out of his soul
and replaced it with nothing but responsible goals.
He rose to the challenge and stuck out his belly
And began to distend it till it did shake like jelly!
Never one to lie down in the face of a challenge
I hopped up two stairs and took careful balance
Then pooched out my tummy as far as it went
And wobbled mine back and forth, back bent.
Santa’s old face lit up like a spark
And he started laughing at me in the dark.
“You’re jolly,” he praised, as he looked down at my gut
“And you’ve reminded me I’d fallen into a rut.
My real job isn’t about meeting deadlines for toys.
It’s supposed to be focused on delivering joy!”
“You’ve helped me, my lad,” Santa said with a grin
“And you’ve won this year, but next year I’ll win.”
Then he quietly opened the fireplace screen
And rose up the chimney, jollier it seemed.
By the following Christmas, I’d lost some of my joy
And forgot to remember to challenge that boy
But when I came down on that next Christmas morn,
The living room seemed most uncommonly warm.
I never saw Santa again in my life
Though I’m sure he’s appearing each Christmas Eve night
There’s this warmth in the living room, fresh and clean
In spite of the fireplace’s not-quite-closed screen.
12/20/06
david
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