My five-year-old sister
was smarter than my parents.
�If Santa�s real,� she told them,
�he�ll bring a baby lamb.�

My five-year-old sister
was smarter than I cared for.
I woke up Christmas morning
and saw a full-grown sheep.

My father and mother,
though they did their best, now know
a lamb at Christmas isn�t
a baby anymore.

My father and mother
had forged a note from Santa.
It said that we could borrow
this lamb from Mrs. Claus.

My father or mother
would take it back to Santa
at a secret launching site
some time by ten that night.

My sister�s Christmas sheep
was terribly annoying.
I saw it in my bedroom
make a mess on the floor.

My sister�s Christmas sheep
chewed the curtains and my desk,
would not go where it was shoved
or where we tried to lead.

My sister�s Christmas sheep
would not get out of my room,
so Dad carried it away,
arms around its middle.

I thought it was funny
when its back feet touched the ground.
It was just as long as him.
This was a baby lamb?

I thought it was funny
that they took so much trouble
to prove there was a Santa.
It didn�t even work.

I still think it�s funny,
though some years have passed since then,
but I was glad that evening
when the Christmas lamb went.