Oliver Scott

A Very Brotherly Christmas

Oliver's pov age 11

"Okay, brush your teeth and into bed, or Santa will skip you." Ryley teased after looking at the clock. "Bedtime? And I'm too old for Santa." I whined. "Fine. I'll just tell him to skip this house then." He said, sounding serious.

"Wait! Maybe.. I will brush my teeth, just in case!" I mumbled. I don't KNOW he's not real after all. He could be. And if he is, I don't want to be skipped. "Go on then." Ryley smiled, nodding his head towards the stairs.

I raced to my bathroom and made sure to brush my teeth extra good, just in case.

When I was done, I hopped back downstairs, hearing Ryley in the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" I asked, watching him dig for the Christmas plate. "Getting the cookie plate." He answered, gently pulling it from the bottom of the stack. "Everyone knows you only get the good presents if you leave cookies for Santa." He said, placing it on the counter.

"Oh. Do we have cookies?" I questioned.

"Mmhmm. I got some from the store when I went." Ryley nodded, placing a grocery bag on the counter beside the plate.

He pulled out a clear box, inside were little gingerbread men cookies.

"Pick some out." He prompted, opening the container.

I went over and picked out the best three, placing them on the plate gently so they wouldn't break.

The plate was white. It had Ryley's squiggly handwriting from when he was a lot younger, sprawled unevenly across the top. "Cookies for Santa" with a messy handprint of mine when I was barely a year old in the center.

"Okay, we'll leave these on the table." Rykey nodded at my selection, carrying the plate into the dining room and setting it on the corner of the table.

"We need to leave his milk!" I remembered.

"You're right. Don't want Santa to choke on a cookie." He smiles, handing me the mug I was desperately trying to reach.

"Two hands." He scolded lightly when I tried to pour the full gallon of milk. I huffed but did use two hands, the task suddenly a bit easier.

•••

"Goodnight, honey." Ryley said gently, kissing my forehead. "Night, Ry." I smiled, snuggling under my blankets.

"It's Christmas tomorrow." I smiled. "I know, babyboy." He chuckled. "I'm so excited." I sighed, "how am I supposed to sleep when I'm this excited?"

"Try your best. When you wake up, it'll be Christmas." He smiled, ruffling my hair.

"Okay." I sighed, closing my eyes.

•••

I stirred, and then my belly growled painfully.

I'm hungry.

I was about to ignore the slight ache in my belly for more sleep when it dawned on me. It's Christmas!

I squinted and read the little alarm clock on my nightstand. It's four in the morning, but it's Christmas!

I threw my covers off and crept out of my room and downstairs. My eyes going wide with excitement.

There were so many presents!

I tiptoed into the dining room to look at our cookies. They were eaten! There was only half a cookie and a sip of milk left.

Cookies!

I raced into the kitchen and hopped up on the counter next to the cookie container. I struggled with it for a moment before successfully popping it open, humming as I bit into my cookie.