This Christmas we have an excitable two year old running around the house. The concept of Santa and presents is becoming a bit clearer though thankfully her list is short as she has no understanding of brands, popular toys etc. I do feel for parents of school-age children at this time of year. It must be so hard trying to set boundaries and limits. I have decided to enjoy, for as long as I can, someone who is blissfully unaware of toy catalogues or the latest crazes! We only get this short window of time after all.
Last year I remember my daughter delighted in all the lights and sparkly tinsel but she had no real idea of Santa. This is hilariously obvious in the video we have of her opening her tricycle. She is dressed in fleecy footsie pyjamas and sucking furiously on her soother wondering if her parents have gone mad; why all the fuss about tearing off the paper??
This year, however, is a whole other ball game. We sat down to ‘write’ a letter to Santa last week and she spent ages scribbling with her pencil and carefully applying stickers. Then we placed it by the fireplace. This meant a lot to me as I remember doing the same with my parents. One year my dad came rushing into the kitchen a while later to say he had seen a hand come down the chimney and take our letters! Myself and my sister were petrified – why we were petrified I have no idea but I was also slightly wary of Santa as a child. To be honest I was wary of lots of things as a child so it is perhaps unsurprising! I had a particular fear of adults dressed up as a characters from cartoons or movies….and yes they still give me the creeps today. But I digress.
As soon as my daughter was safely ensconced in her booster seat I pretended to hear something in the sitting room. I ran inside and then returned to tell her that Santa had taken her letter…but I went a step too far. I grabbed her jingle bell decoration (which she is currently obsessed with) and hid behind the kitchen door. I shook them thinking she would believe Santa’s sleigh had made the noise. I popped out to be greeted by a super unimpressed face.
“Where my bells?”
“No, no that was Santa on his sleigh!”
“Where my bells?” tone increasing at this point!
“That was Santa’s sleigh sweetheart!”
“NO! My bells!!!”
Clearly there was no fooling this mini Sherlock Holmes so to keep the peace, I gave up, handed her the bells and poured myself a strong coffee.
I’ll try again next year!