Dad was sitting all nestled in his old, comfy chair,
Clicker in hand and a curious stare.
We all watch in wonder as Mum dropped to the floor
Rolls of film and duct tape, reindeer antlers and more.

Shock, horror ran through us as we stared at the pile,
Knowing what we're in for in a short little while.
Away to the windows we flew like a flash,
Every boy for himself as we made a quick dash.

Fur balls went flying as we created a breeze,
Tumbling all over like dry hairy weeds.
On Moosie, on Jakie, we ran and we ran,
Straight up the stairs with a clatter and a bang.

Mum whistled, and shouted, and called us by name;
Come Jakie, come Moosie, come Toddie, you too!
Out to the garden while we have a wintery view.

Dad rose from his chair and with a purposeful gait
Strode to the cupboard where his camera did wait.
He selected the lens with authority and care,
Then adjusted the props, a little here, a little there.

Up on his sled our Jakie did climb,
He sat like a prince, and posed - so divine.
She stuck big white antlers on top of my head,
Then laughed when she saw us, I nearly dropped dead.

Dad spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
We stayed there in silence, we dared not smirk.
Soon he was done, and off Mum did tear,
Rolls of film in her hand, and wind in her hair.

Shortly thereafter, the photos were done,
Oh please, oh please, let there be at least one.
The pressure's so great for that coveted spot,
'Tis Photo of the Month that we desire a lot.

Twice now we've had it, and so it's become
A tradition for us to try and be the one.
With breath that we held, we waited on pins
While both parents had photos through which they skimmed.