This post shamelessly borrows from a well-known Christmas poem. This is one event that made Christmas special with my lads. Thanks to I love Christmas FB page for some great photos!
Not a young lad was stirring, not even a mouse.
The cutters were laid on the table with care,
In hopes that five busy boys soon would be there.
While visions of gingerbread danced in their heads.
And I in my apron, all cover’d with flour
And just finished the dough for some fun cooking hours.
When out in their room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to their bedroom I flew like a flash,
Tore open their door and threw up the sash.
The light on the face of new-waken boys
Gave the lustre of candy now eaten so coy,
As, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a chocolate sleigh, and eight candy reindeer.
I knew in a moment these boys knew some tricks!
But smiling with patience, a grin gave to them.
And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Angels! Now, Snowmen! Now, Brown Trains and Bright Stars!
Now Santas! Now Green Trees! Now Red Canes and Blue Cars!
Boys fast to the kitchen, to the frosting of all,
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As pyjamas and clothing that before the wild hurricanes fly,
Boys who rush meet with an obstacle, mount and go by.
So out to the kitchen, excited they flew
With the room full of laughs, for St. Nicholas, too.
Each cutter and pressing in each little hand
As I roll’d all the dough for each cookie around,
All the odd-shaped boys’ gingerbread came with a bound.
Then each dressed all in sweets, from each head to each foot
And their clothes were decorated with candy and loot
A bundle of gum bears there -flung on some backs
And some looked like a peddler just opening a pack
Their cheeks were real smarties; a nose was a cherry!
Their droll little mouths were drawn up like a bow,
And a beard on a chin, icing white as the snow.
Black stumps of a pipe they held tight in fake teeth,
Smoke black licorice encircled a head like a wreath.
Made with a flat face but a little round belly,
That broke, jammed with smarties when ate by a felly!
Snowmen chubby and plump, like right jolly old elves,
And I laughed when I saw them in spite of myself!
A chip for their eyes and a twist for their hair
Soon filled up the place, there was nothing left bare.
They iced all their cookies, then turned with a jerk
And laying their fingers inside of each bowl,
And licking each one, too much to be told!
And boxed all the cookies, then turned with a jerk.
And placing each filled box to each little son
And giving a nod, to our mess- we were done!
We sprang to our car, to each friend gave a parcel,
As away we all flew like a sleigh on a Red Bull!
How they heard us exclaim, ‘ere we roared out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-bite!”
Will grown sons take on this time honoured rite,
Taking their children to new gingerbread heights?
Oh, I’ve heard ’em exclaim on gingerbread baking-
We’re sending each grandchild to grandma for making!