T'was the morning of breakfast and all through the place, all the food was digesting 'cause none went to waste.
Miles, dashed in t'ward Santa while clinging to me, for this was his very first visit you see.
He smiled, then frowned and looked all around, when we plopped him on Santa he stared at the ground.
We got out our camera, with flash at the ready, hoping old Santa would hold him quite steady.
At first he just looked at the man in the beard, when all of a sudden his face scrunched up weird.
Tears rose in his eyes, like a quick sinking ship, we thought that he may just soon let it rip.
Emotions were spiraling out of control, a sweet, happy baby was simply our goal.
Santa looked frazzled and Miles distraught, his face matched the little red hat that we bought.
Chris clicked away to capture the moment, and I stood by chuckling, just eating my donut.
The screaming got louder and we ran up quick, while Miles was snubbing a peppermint stick.
Finally Santa passed on our bundle, I swear when he did I heard a slight grumble.
Miles was soothed, safe in my arms, and we were amused which did him no harm.
"...Santa sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle...."
But I heard him exclaim as he changed clothes out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, wish this beard fit me right."
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