Christmas Morning Magic

First there is the sneeze
Most certainly faked.
Snuggling beneath the covers,
I deny the inevitable.

Next comes a series of exaggerated yawns
Alternating with the clearing of a tiny throat,
Too small for what is beginning to sound
like emphysema

“Ian, are you awake? It’s already 4:32,
It’s time”
“Jimmy, are you awake?” I echo,
“They’ve begun”

Pillow firmly overhead
This is not happening.
`Jesus, it`s only 4:33.
Assembly went til 2:00.

Now a series of bed squeaks,
quiet giggles,
whispered plans.

A brief pause.

Then the expected little feet climbing,
creaking down from the top bunk.
A flurry of negotiations and                                                                                                              contingency plans.

“You go first”,
“You`re the cutest”`
“Let the dog into her room”`
Amateur!
“She`ll know we did and
She`ll be mad”`
“`Just go to the bathroom
Flush at least twice”`

Do you hear them? I complain
Do you hear them? He responds

Bonding, waiting, anticipating
Giving us a reason to celebrate, to believe again,
To get up at 4:34.

Flush, Flush!
Baby footsteps
whirling down the hall
waiting for some magic.

``Kids``, I yell, ``it`s 4:35.
What are you thinking
It`s Christmas!
You`re wasting half the morning.``

The magic begins

Breathlessly leaping into my arms,
Racing down the stairs
Digging into presents
like starving gulls.

We play Thomas the Train in a darkness
That was defeated by the lights of our tree
And the spirit of childhood