‘Twas the night before birthday, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse (okay, maybe a fruit fly or two).
The tent was hung in the backyard with care,
In hopes that St. Birthday Fairy soon would be there;
The child and her father were nestled all snug in their sacks,
While visions of Pokémon and DS games danced in her head.
Now mama was draped in her flannel pjamas,
And had just settled down off her feet,
Where inside she stayed with her babe, lit’l Max.
She looked out the window in clear mystification:
How had eight years flown by like a flash?
And now her once-baby, a girl so lively and quick.
To the top of the porch ol’ mama she went,
Headlamps were dashing about in the nylon tent,
And the air started to chill with autumn scent.
So back up to the house this misty mama went,
With visions of birthdays to come in her head…
The years were all flying and swirling away.
Really — it was too much for Mama to consider after a work-day!
But Stella and hubby could hear her exclaim, ere she headed to bed,
“Happy Birthday dear child, and to all a good-night.”
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