White fluffy snow falls,
sun glistens off the landscape.
Christmas carols blare from the living room
and I leap
down stairs two steps at a time.
Cookie cutters clutter the counter.
Cups of red, green, and yellow frosting rest
on the table.
Zach stumbles into the table with a bang,
and as frosting slides,
Dad throws himself to save it.
These are memories to laugh about later.
Mom rolls dough on the counter,
eight grubby hands grab for Santa, reindeer,
and boot cutouts.
The first batch bakes in the oven,
the sweet aroma of sugar filling the house …
It’s time to bake another batch.
Zach slips on a puddle of water
(that he didn’t clean up)
and cookies are flying as if they are birds
taking their first flight.
These are memories to laugh about later.
The table fills with family.
Three dozen cookies wait for red, green,
and yellow frosting.
We share stories from years’ past.
“Remember when …” Mom says.
Dad puts red frosting on the dog’s nose
and calls him Rudolf.
And still white, fluffy snow falls,
sun glistens off the landscape.
These are memories to laugh about later.