Tell Santa

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My kids are outgrowing Santa. It makes me sad. Now, the only way I can get them to go along is if we go on pet night to take the dog.

I have a lot of fond memories of our Santa visits.  The first time I took my son to see Santa he was about two years old.  He shared my excitement to see Santa but when we got up to actually talk with the Big Man, my son suddenly agreed that talking to strangers was a bad idea and this was as good a time as any to start obeying that rule. I held my son’s hand and we approached Santa on his Christmas throne. I remember this like it was yesterday.  When Santa asked my son what he wanted for Christmas my son replied with earnestness and sincerity –knickknacks. I don’t know if Santa needed a translator considering his yuletide magic, but that is what my son called fruit snacks.

It delights me to no end thinking of the stories that man can tell.  When my son was in kindergarten he was friends with a little girl in his class.  On an early dismissal day I decided to take them to see Santa.  The mom of the little girl asked me if I would eavesdrop or somehow get her to tell me what she wanted because she was keeping it a secret for Santa. Apparently she had heard about Secret Santa and was taking the whole thing quite seriously.

I devised a plan that on the way there they could practice what they were going to say in case they got starstruck or nervous when the actual time came. It worked!  She told me from her buckled seat in the back of the car that she wanted a horse with a cowboy on it and when the button is pressed.  Here my son interjected, “It self-destructs.”  She paused and looked at my son with a mixture of confusion and mild disgust. “No, the horse puts its legs in the air and makes the horse noise.”  She mimed the action and provided the whinnies.  My son insisted that it would be better if it shot missiles like the Star Wars X- Wing Fighter he had in mind. Despite our excursion to planet Mars, I returned to Venus and asked where she saw this horse.  She replied “I made it up.”

I wonder how many imaginary toys Santa has heard about.

My oldest is fourteen. The only reason he is going this year is because he loves his nine year old brother and the chance of hijinks with the dog at the mall are pretty high.  My nine year old has big plans for Christmas and they involve Nerf. He belongs to an organized group of 8-10 year olds that have Nerf wars once a week.  Before the battle begins, there’s a lot of discussion of weaponry.  The boys all aim to improve their arsenal with Santa’s help, and they discuss which of the latest Nerf guns will best suit their needs.  Among them is a weapon that can shoot sixty feet and it has become a bit of a legend among the group.  I have no idea how or why but they believe this gun is called “The Big Wang.”  I just can’t wait for Santa to hear from several boys between eight and ten that tops on their list is a “Big Wang.”  

I’ve tried to tell my son that I don’t think that’s what it’s called, but he and his cadre insist there is a legendary Nerf by such a name. So I’m afraid this Santa visit may be our last, but I think we are going to go out with a big bang, or a wang as the case may be.         

2 thoughts on “Tell Santa

  1. It is so sad when Santa becomes someone only little kids believe in. So far my memory is still in tact and I can remember how magical little-kid Christmas was–especially the one year with a yellow Lab puppy under the tree. So great! By the way, the nerf confusion could be call “the big-wang theory.” Sorry. Love your blogs!!

    • Thank you. Santa is a wonderful idea. I think we all are a little bit of Santa and that’s what maintains the Christmas magic even when we “don’t believe.”

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