Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the airport
Not a store was open, not even a food court;
The passengers are milling about without a direction,
In hopes that one convenience store would be a distraction;
The children are screaming in their restlessness;
While parents are flustered with helplessness;
And airline agents keep counting to end of light,
While the crews rush to their last flight,
Mom and I gratefully slink into the lounge and forgoe
The choas while we bid farewell to Santiago.
Feliz Navidad, peeps!