My kids had the thrill of seeing Santa Claus over the weekend at a Christmas party hosted by my brother and sister in law. Santa gave each child an early gift, and while O. was thrilled with his "amimal fing," he was sure to point out that it "wasn't the one in the magazine. That one didn't have a gorilla."
N. did great the first time she sat on Santa's lap, surprisingly. But she didn't fare too well at the subsequent photo ops. We now have the obligatory "screaming child on Santa's lap" photo to frame. How weird is that as a tradition?
Neither one got the chance to tell Santa what they really want for Christmas, so we'll have to put it into a letter. O's rehearsed list goes like this: "I want two amimal fings and Diego Saves The Dinosaurs and a lot of other fings."
He adds items as he thinks of them, but these are the ones that have endured for over a month. O. will probably be thrilled if Santa does indeed bring Diego Saves the Dinosaurs. He keeps telling me he wants to use his own money from his train bank, and that even though fifty dollars is a lot, he can carry it into Target. However, today I was thinking that the list of things my children REALLY want is a lot different than the list they'll be sending to the North Pole.
Unsupervised, their letters might look something more like this:
What I really want for Christmas:
1. Pants with easy access deep pockets to hide rocks, marbles, pine cones, plastic amimals and small balls from N. and to get through the washing machine unnoticed.
2. A sippy cup full of syrup.
3. My own pillow in the middle of Mommy and Daddy's bed.
3. A direct mind/television connection, with no need to whine, wheedle or cajole my mommy to get to watch shows.
Oh, and my sister says she would like:
1. Her very own rubber bouncy ball, preferably windpipe sized.
2. Anything poisonous in a tube.
4. One, just ONE swing on the kitchen chandelier before being yanked off the table.