I baked a dozen cookies
and I put them on a plate,
and I set them out for Santa Claus,
except for one I ate.
That cookie was amazing
and I couldn’t quite resist…
so I ate another one
that I was sure would not be missed.
I knew it wouldn’t matter
if I only ate one more.
Then I gobbled up another one.
Why not? That’s only four.
I accidentally dropped
another couple on the ground.
I knew Santa wouldn’t want them
so I swiftly scarfed them down.
Another couple disappeared.
I may have eaten those,
though I couldn’t say for certain,
but I guess that’s how it goes.
I figured four was likely more
than Santa Claus would need
so I polished off another few
with unexpected speed.
Before I knew what happened
all the damage had been done,
and I realized I’d accidentally
eaten every one.
I guess it’s best, since Santa
sort of needs to watch his weight.
When he visits us this Christmas
I sure hope he likes the plate.
This adorable poem reminds me of what my house is like during the holidays. Every year my mom and I bake cookies and even make the occasional ginger bread house. Food, especially around the holidays, has always been much more than for eating. It is a way to bring the family together and share a laugh, or two when you end up eating all the cookies. The memories of baking cookies and spending some quality time with my family will always be with me. As I get older, I hope to continue all of these traditions with my own family one day.