when you get home from
work, there is a family
sitting at your
table, eating dinner.
a boy, a girl, a mom
in a flowery dress,
and a dad in a white
shirt and blue tie.
you stand
and stare at them
as you take off your
hat and set your
briefcase down.
a dog comes up to
you and barks, which
makes everyone
laugh and say, oh
rex, sit down. behave.
have a seat, the man says.
cornish hens, mashed
potatoes. mom here
made some peach pie
for dessert too.
sure did, she says,
and gives the man a wink.
who the hell are you people,
you ask, returning
the wave to the two
little kids with stuffed
cheeks and bright
blue eyes. we thought
you could use a nice
hot meal and some
holiday company. we'll
be staying through
christmas. but,
but, you stammer,
how did you get in
here? what's going on?
please, relax. nothing
to worry about, you
look tired and hungry.
sit down mister,
everyone move down a
chair so he can sit.
honey bun, grab a plate
for this man
would you? we're
going to sing carols
later while we drink
hot cocoa and trim
the tree. are you in?
we hope so. everyone looks
at you with open mouths
and wide eyes, waiting
for you to answer.
you take a seat and
shrug your shoulders,
you start piling food
onto your plate and say,
pffft, are you kidding?
sure, why not? count me in.
nobody wake me up, okay?
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