I wish my kids were little enough to read stories to them again! This made me smile, and brought back memories... If you are a Mom who has ever read to your children you will smile as well reading this!
"Are you ready to read?"
"Yeah!"
"OK, here we go: Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse --"
"Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Is that the mouse's house?"
"Yes."
"Why he live in a teacup?"
"Well, I'm not sure. It's just the right size, I suppose."
"Oh. It has a crack in it."
"OK. Let's keep reading. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there --"
"Nicholas? Nicky?"
"No, baby, not your cousin Nicholas. St. Nicholas. That's another name for Santa Claus. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads -- "
"Where are the sugarplums? Where are they?"
"Well, you can't see them in this picture, sweetheart. They're dreaming about them. So they're in their heads."
"Why?"
"Because sometimes you can't actually see things. You can only think or imagine them."
"Why?"
[sigh] "And Mamma in her kerchief -- "
But why, Mommy? Why can't I see the sugarplums?"
"Because they're dancing inside their heads. Where you can't see them."
"Oh. OK."
"Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer -- "
"Oooh! Mommy! Let's count the reindeer! One. Two. Three. Five. Six. Seven. Eight."
"I think you left out four, sweetheart. Try again."
"OK. One. Two. Three. FiveSixSevenEightNine. Better?"
[chuckle] "Well, it was different, anyway. Now where were we?
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen!--"
"No, Mommy -- it's Donner. In Rudolph, it's Donner!"
"I know, baby. I like Donner better, too. But in this book, he's called Donder."
"Why?"
"It's one of life's mysteries, sweet pea."
"One of life's mysteries?"
"Yes. To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
And then, in a twinkling, --"
Mommy! You skipped a page!"
[yawn] "I did?"
"Yeah! You forgot the page where all the toys are falling out of Santa's sleigh!"
"Oh. It's OK. We can skip it this time. It's getting late."
"No! I want to see the picture!"
"OK, here's the picture."
"Why the toys are falling out of Santa's sleigh?"
"Because he's going really fast."
"But the toys! The toys are gone!"
"It's OK. Santa has plenty of extras just in case. Let's see, where were we ... heard on the roof, prancing and pawing, blah blah ... He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot -- "
Why?"
"Because he came down the chimney. And chimneys are dirty."
"Why?"
"Because when you build a fire, all the smoke flies up into the chimney. Um, or something like that."
"Why?"
"Let's just keep reading. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath -- "
Smoke? What's that, Mommy? What's in his mouth?"
"Well, that's a pipe."
"What's a pipe? I want a pipe!"
"No, you don't. You don't want a pipe. Santa shouldn't have one, either."
"Why?"
"Oh look! His belly's shaking like a bowlful of jelly!"
"Hee hee. That's funny, Mommy. Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Good night. I don't want to read anymore."
"OK, baby. Sweet dreams."
"Sweet dreams, Mommy."
And to all a good night.
This was written by Beth McNichol, found at : http://www.trianglemom2mom.com/content/night-christmas-bedtime-remix
