|IN BIRDLAND, CHRISTMAS MORNING IS A QUIET AFFAIR|
|WHEN I SEWED THAT FIRST STOCKING,|
I CUT IT SMALL ON PURPOSE.
IN BIRDLAND, CHRISTMAS MORNING IS A QUIET AFFAIR. Gone are the days when small boys would pry us from the bed before daybreak, while we laughingly feigned a surprised sleepiness. Come to think of it, the sleepiness was authentic. This year Chandra is home from the West coast and Dylan has stayed over from town. Having my two oldest sons home for a little while is the best present I could hope for. They'll each sleep for a while longer. Even Ellis seems to have learned that whatever's under the tree will still be there if he sleeps in for a while longer. Following a long Christmas Eve tradition, the big boys helped my youngest write Santa's note (this year full of teenaged wit tinged with some helpful dietary advice) and lay out a platter of cookies and a glass of milk. I went to bed long before the low rumble of conversation and laughter stopped and the lights went out one by one.
|SHE NEVER LETS ME LIE IN BED LONG|
|HAVING MY SONS HOME IS THE BEST PRESENT I COULD WISH FOR|