Just a bit of fluff, written in a rush and with hardly any editing, in response LabRat's Christmas Carol challenge. Hope you enjoy!
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I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night
She didn't see me creep
Down the stairs to have a peep
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep
ThenI saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus
Underneath his beard so snowy white
Oh what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.
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I Saw Mommy Kissing...Superman.
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Brothers are dumb. I should know - I have two. They never stop teasing you, or taking your toys, or pinching you just for fun, or sticking their tongue out at you and making their ears waggle. And when you tell your Mom they pull your curls and stop talking to you, and you can't help feeling bad inside even though you're so angry with them at the same time.
Sometimes I wish I were a boy. Dad and especially Mom tell me that they'd love me no matter what, but Larry and Joel wouldn't tease me half as much if I were a boy like them. Just 'cause they're older than me, they think they can boss me around.
Joel is the oldest - by a whole five minutes. Dad says that Mom nearly shattered the glass in the hospital windows when she had one baby just to figure out that there was another coming. She always looks at him dangerously when he says that, and starts to talk about the weaker gender, and how she hadn't seen him having a baby recently, and that she had done all the work. Mostly Daddy just goes, "I did have some part in it, honey," and Mom blushes and swats at his head, and he pulls her onto his lap, laughing, and they start doing all sorts of mooshy stuff. Like kissing. So I usually cover my eyes. Better than what my brothers do, which is push their fingers in their ears and go 'eww'. Usually Mom gets annoyed when they do that and sits up on Dad's lap and tells them to go clean their room or something, and Dad just looks at her, and his eyes are all sparkly behind his glasses and there's a big grin on his face, like he just loves to see her all angry and stuff.
But Joel always makes a big deal about how he's the eldest, even though he's not even a teenager yet. He's always bossing me around, and he tries to do it to Larry too, but it doesn't work on him as much, 'cause he just jumps on top of him and tries to pummel him.
I wish I could do that too, but I'm only seven. It'll be years until I'm big and strong enough to beat my brothers up. I bet they won't keep calling me Squirt then.
I wiggle around on the top step. It's kinda cold out here, 'cause I've forgotten my dressing-gown, and the house is all quiet 'cause it's really, really, really late, like eleven 'o clock or something, and besides, it's Christmas Eve, so everyone's being good so that they won't get coal in their stocking instead of toys. Even Mom and Dad have hung their socks in front of the fire, Mom's soft stockings that you can see through, and Dad's big woolly socks. It looks so funny seeing them all hanging up in a row. Even Larry and Joel's stinky socks are hanging there. Mine looks so small, 'cause I'm the youngest, even though I picked the biggest, thickest one I have, but I still hope that Santa can fit something into it.
The boys are downstairs, fast asleep on the sofa. I can hear them breathing, even though I'm so far away. They wouldn't let me wait with them, 'cause they said I was too young to stay awake so late, and 'sides, I'm a girl, so they said they'd get cooties if I slept beside them. And here I'm awake even longer than them. Now I'm going to tease them in the morning. If I can keep my eyes open long enough... it's pretty late, and the house is so snug and warm, even though the steps are freezing.
Brrrr... there's a wind blowing from somewhere. I tuck my pyjamas all around me, cuddling up, my teeth chattering.
Is that... someone on the roof?
I slide three steps down the stairs, clutching at the banisters with my fists, peering between the slats. My heart is pounding... Santa!! Santa, Santa, Santa!
A flick of silk catches the corner of my eye, and I shrink into the corner of the stairs. Mom!! What's Mom doing up? If she catches me, I'm so dead...
I can see her really clearly, even though she's far away. Her face looks really peaceful, and she's looking at Joel and Larry, who are now snoring like pigs. She looks so happy... she's stroking a piece of Larry's hair off of his face.
Somebody's tapping at the window...
Mom still believes in Santa, I think. Anyway, she doesn't seem to be too doubtful about opening the door. She's running across the room, and just before she turned, I saw the hugest smile on her face…
It's... it's... it's not Santa.
It's *Superman*! What's he doing in our house? Doesn't he have somewhere to be at Christmas? Why isn't he waiting for Santa to come?
I shut my eyes quick, squeezing them as tight as I can. Mooshy stuff! Mom is *kissing* him!! Superman! Not Dad, Superman!
They're *right beside the Christmas tree!* If Dad comes down and catches them, he'll be so sad, and Mom will be angry, and Superman will fly off, and they'll maybe fight, and then Christmas will be ruined for everybody, just like Mom's was when she was a kid, when her parents were fighting...
"Mommy! No!" I yell, hurtling down the stairs and bashing into them, knocking them apart. They both look startled - in fact, Mommy looks murderous. But then Superman's face is all red, and Mom has that expression you get when you feel really sick and then somebody comes along with a big steaming plateful of food that you never really liked even before you got sick, and suddenly your stomach feels like it's turned upside down and you cover your hand with your mouth and run...
"Eleanor Martha Lara Kent! Do you have any idea what time it is?" Yep, definitely murderous. I'm just a bit afraid now - I really don't want Mom to be mad at me on Christmas Eve. I might get coal in my stocking after all...
"I'm sorry, Mom," I mumble, looking at my toes. They're wiggling about all over the place, and I try to make them stay still. I suddenly realise that I'm standing here, in my PJ's, the ones with the big picture of a teddy-bear on it, in front of Superman, who everyone at school thinks is really nice and can do all that cool stuff.
His hand is patting the top of my head.
"Merry Christmas, Ellie," he chuckles. "Would you like a Christmas kiss too?"
I glance up at him, confused. Ewww! What's he talking about?
He just smiles and points one finger up at the ceiling. I look up, and my eyes go really big when I figure what it is I'm looking at.
Mistletoe.
Oh my gosh! It was the mistletoe! *That* was why they were acting all mooshy and soppy! All adults do that, don't they? I even saw Auntie Lucy and Uncle Jimmy doing it the other day, as *well* as Grandpa Sam and Grandma Ellen, *and* Gramps and Granny.
I wrinkle my nose at Superman. Even if I like *him*, I don't like boys. Or mooshy stuff.
His face crumples, and he sniffs. He kinda looks like Butch, our dog, when he's begging for a treat or when you accidentally step on his tail or something. I offer my hands up for a hug.
I squeeze him extra tight, and he staggers back, looking amazed. "Hey, I think one of my ribs just cracked! You know what, Ellie Kent?"
I giggle. "What, Superman?"
"I think you're just about the strongest girl I've ever met," he says gravely.
I giggle even louder. "Really?"
"Yup. *And* smartest, *and* nicest, any you know what?" He bends down to my eye level, and he whispers in my ear. "I think you're the prettiest too, but don't tell your Mom I said that, or she might get mad."
What the heck. I give him a big kiss on the cheek, just this once. He looks like all his birthdays have come at once, *and* Christmas, *and* Thanksgiving, *and* Fourth of July.
He smiles at me. "Were you wondering why I was here?"
I nod shyly. His clothes look so cool...
"Well, I met Santa on my way here, you see," he confides, "and he told me that he needed to give one little girl a very special present this time, because she's been so good all year. And I told him I'd do it, because I was on my way here anyway, to wish you all a Merry Christmas."
"You did?" My face crumples in disappointment as I figure something very important. "Well, why aren't there any presents under the tree yet? Or in my stocking? Am I going to get..." my voice drops as I voice the thing I'm most afraid of, "...am I going to get a lump of coal this year instead?"
He looks shocked. "Of course not! Santa just hasn't come yet. He's a very busy man tonight, you know."
"Really?" My face is hopeful.
"Really."
"Wow..." I turn to Mommy, suddenly wide-awake all over again. "Mom, can I stay up until he comes? Please, pretty please, with a cherry on top?"
She's laughing at me, even though she's obviously trying to put on her 'Mom' face again and be all stern and stuff.
"You most certainly can not, young lady! You and those two rascals," she nods at Joel and Larry, "will have to go to bed straight away, or Santa won't come!"
"Lois..." Superman is helping! He's giving her the same look that he gave me, and I can see it's working on her as well. She's going to say yes, I know it!!
"Well..." she pauses, looking at my pleading face, then glances at the boys, then back at Superman again. "Well... okay. Just for tonight. Just because it's Christmas," she relents.
I cheer, punching the air with my fists, before running over and shaking my brothers awake.
"Hey guys... guys, wake up... c'mon, guys, wake up... hello?? Wake up!!!!" I yell, shaking at them. From the gust of wind behind me, I know that Superman is gone, and Mom is probably going back up to her room. Maybe to wake Dad and tell him that his best buddy was just here.
Finally, they wake up. Their eyes are all red and blinky, and their hair is sticking up all over the place, at the front and at the back. I giggle at how silly they both look.
Joel is the first to speak.
"Eurrgh... what, Squirt? Don't tell me, you saw a ghost."
"Nope." I shake my head, glad for once to prove him wrong.
He looks puzzled. "There's a snake under your bed?"
"Wrong!" I grin in glee, dancing on my two feet.
Larry's voice emerges from underneath the blanket, thrown across them there on the couch.
"What about... a bear in your closet?" he growls, and starts tickling me. I shriek with laughter. He sounds just like Uncle Perry!
"N-no!!!" I choke out finally, squirming away from him.
"Then what?" they both exclaim at the same time, doing that twin-thing they do. Though it's funny - Mom and Dad do that too, sometimes, and they're not twins. At least, I think they're not.
"I have just seen Superman."
Their eyes are wide. "No way!"
"Yup." I pause, just to make them mad. "And you know what else?"
"What?"
"He says that Santa is on his way with our presents. And especially with mine, since I've been such a good girl all year."
Joel snorts, trying to be the almost-grown-up again. "Yeah, right." But he still looks a bit uncertain.
"Right!" I grin, clambering up beside them. "And you know what else?"
"What?" they chorus.
"I'm staying here until he arrives... and you're not gonna stop me!" I yell, burrowing under the blanket like a little mouse.
They yell, and wage war. But after a few minutes, they kinda stop for a little while. Maybe 'cause I accidentally kicked Larry in the stomach and bit Joel's finger (by mistake.) And eventually they make room for me. They even keep me warm when my teeth start to chatter. And the next morning, they don't tease me about falling asleep first, even though I did. They're too busy playing with the football I got them (well, Mommy bought it, but I *gave* it to them) and guess what? They got *me* a present! A small little teddy bear, who I've already called 'Holly'.
I guess brothers aren't so bad after all. When you get used to them. And only at Christmas.
I guess.
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Sara, November 2003
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