No Peeking

Hey, I said no peeking.

You know I have been hiding out in the bedroom

for a little while.

You know your presents are on the bed.

You devil.

Stay away, I said.

Don’t you dare open the door.

Don’t spoil your surprise.

Yeah, I have your sweet nothings.

My eyes are looking over them

and am anticipating the moment

that your sneaky hands get to open them.

Yes, they are in pretty wrapping.

You know, the paper with the fancy stars

all over it.

For you are my star to spoil

this Christmas.

Yes, you.

You know you have been a good girl.

Santa will be good to you.

Hey, I said no peeking.

I hear your footsteps and your laughter

on the other side.

Go away. Go play. Make me a yummy supper.

For, when I’m done being all taped up,

I’m going to want to devour something.

Besides, you

which you know is on my list of things to do.

Okay, now the presents are wrapped

and resting patiently under our beautiful tree.

I’m in the kitchen eating your saucy and meaty lasagna.

But I hear some presents moving.

I can hear the crinkle of the wrapping paper.

“What are you up to in there?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve heard that one before.

I double wrapped it you know.”

“I’m just having fun. It’s tradition you know.”

“I don’t want to see any new holes in my handiwork, honey.”

“You won’t. I’ll be good.”

Her fingers were crossed behind her back.

I just knew it.

She’s like the little child

that can’t stop searching and wondering

until she’s spoiled her surprise.

That’s okay, let her poke holes.

She won’t find out as underneath

the pretty wrapping is

a layer of duct tape

to keep her devilish ways

and to keep her in suspense

and baited breath.

Jennifer Jo Fay

November 2011