Thank You, Santa

I'm not certain that Connor believes in Santa. A few weeks ago, he was sitting at the table with Helen chatting about Santa, relating all the glory that the fat man is. Abruptly, he paused, looked up at Helen and said "wait a minute, that doesn't make any sense, maybe Mom and Dad just give us our presents". Then, he went back to whatever he was doing before he started telling the story, and the subject never came up again.

On Christmas Eve, Ed and I realized that we had failed to have Grandma Lynn hold back one of the many presents she had purchased for Connor to give as a Santa gift. We were screwed. Except Toys-R-Us was waiting for us and had Ed by the proverbial balls since I sent him off to join the other parents that were scrambling to find gifts for their kids.

Ed did the only thing he could in such a situation - he bought the one gift for Connor that Connor desperately wanted but that we hadn't even asked the grandparents on either side for because it was too frivolous. He bought the Lego cargo train. For Helen, he purchased some more supplies for her illegal daycare, as she had requested a "baby nursery" from Santa - whatever the heck that is. (In case your child ever asks for this, Helen seemed pleased with some baby bunk beds, a baby bathtub, and some plastic feeding supplies). Dagger through my Waldorf heart those gifts were.

On Christmas morning, Connor was both thrilled and surprised. He explained to me that he didn't think he was getting the Lego train because none of the boxes that he helped carry last night were the right size. (Evidence of knowing that Grandma's presents are the same as Santa's presents, perhaps?)

Connor was so thrilled that he later told me he was definitely going to write Santa a thank you note. He planned to thank Santa "at least six times". He composed the following letter, which he gave to Santa a couple of days after Christmas when we rode the Polar Express Train and got a visit from Santa.



"Dear Santa - Thank you for the electric train. I was dying for the electric train. Now I can make a big enormous city. Love, Connor"

This is the kind of stuff that melts my heart.

Elaine

Cherrydale Santa

Santa sure knows how to make an entrance around these parts. Having missed our usual Santa meeting at our realtor's office, we headed to the volunteer fire department in our neighborhood to catch a peek of the fat man there. He arrived to much fanfare on an antique fire truck. Unfortunately, this is the best photo I have of Ed and the kids hailing his arrival and then him stuck in traffic. After that, my camera died because I failed to charge the battery. For the record, this has never happened before with my Canon D20. That battery lasts forever!

As it turns out, after children sit on Santa's lap and request "lego trains" and "a baby nursery", they get to rifle through a huge pile of gifts and take one home.

Connor chose an electric train.

Helen is nothing, if not clever. I had feared she would bring home another plastic headed baby doll - and she was certainly interested in these. But then she noticed a freakin' pink and purple plastic "laptop" and she knew that the only way she would ever get one of these electronic nightmares was as a gift from Santa. So, like all good politicians, she seized the moment, as I stood there crooning about how cute the plastic headed babies were.

Game. Set. Match. Score 1 for the fatman and Helen.

Helen doesn't play with the toy that often, as she seems to know if it makes me nutty it might have an unfortunate accident and disappear. But she does enjoy saying things like "Daddy, isn't it nice that now EVERYONE in the house has a laptop. Well, except Connor." and "Potter needs to have a playdate with me because he really, really, really wants to see my music computer. He will love it." It wouldn't actually be that bad, except Connor has been able to read the instructions for her so between the two of them, they can make several games appear.

Ugh.

Double Ugh.

Elaine