My cousin, Jane, and I are five
on this cold and festive Christmas Eve.
We’ve been put to bed too soon,
while the grownups party on.
Let’s catch the old coot in the act,
I say. Yes, Jane says, let’s do.
All we have to do is stay awake
and listen for his sleigh upon the roof.
Should we go and meet him?
Maybe, maybe not; let’s see.
Well, make up your mind, she says.
He’ll be here very soon.
Give me just a minute, I complain,
to think it over one more time.
The next we know, it’s Christmas Day,
and Santa has slipped by us once again.