By Betsy Haynes
Copyright 2012 Betsy Haynes
A STOWAWAY NAMED JEROD
I don’t mind telling you that it was turning out to be the most awesome Christmas Eve flight ever. I could feel the wind whistling through my whiskers. The moon was giving me a sly grin. He knew what I was up to and he was cheering me on. I was leaving the last house in a little town in the state of Washington. The next house was just a few miles away—as the sleigh flies. It was a peaceful night. I snuggled deep into the piles of toys all around me and told myself that it felt like floating on angel wings through the midnight sky.
By golly, it just might have been perfect.
I sprang up and spun around. “What the…” The back of the sleigh was heaped and piled with toys. There were stacks of Skoobie-Do dogs, mounds of electronic monsters, dozens of dolls and gobs of Gameboys. There were billions of bikes and tons of talking kitchens.