Overheard in the Kitchen: "No, no--erasers do not eat cows."

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Toddlerita Mindworks--A Special Holiday Edition

So it's Christmas Time, and all of the little children are bursting with excitement. They can't wait to meet Santa Claus at the mall and ask him for that special something; they're counting down the days until they pounce upon their stockings and open dozens of gifts under the glittering tree.

Not in our house.

"Do you want to write a letter to Santa Claus?" I asked last week, remembering fondly the pink-scribbled construction paper missive from last year, in which Santa was very politely asked for a purple reindeer. "No!" she said, as horrified as if I had threatened to burn her Elmo slippers. "Well, uh, wouldn't you like to ask him for some toys?" "NO! I have enough toys! I already got a blue teddy bear this year!" (Thank you, Auntie Hilma!) "Well, what will Santa put in your stocking when he comes to Grandma's house?" "I do not want him to come to Grandma's house!" OK, great, I am thinking to myself. The kid clearly has some issues, but at least she's not materialistic! But then I got to thinking from the toddlerita's point of view. Why the heck would she not want new toys?

We had been seeing Salvation Army bell-ringers when we were out and about, and, seeing an opportunity to instill some good values, I'd been explaining that some folks don't have as much as we do. They need other people's help to get warm clothes and food. I had broached the idea of giving away some of the toys and books that she didn't play with anymore, so we could share with kids who don't have as much as we do. She didn't think much of that idea, so I dropped it, thinking we could just wait until after Christmas when she already had the new toys.

Hm. Salvation Army ringers wear Santa hats, don't they? Hm. "Do you think that Santa is going to take your old toys when he comes on Christmas?" I asked. "NO! No! I do NOT want Santa to come take my toys!" Bingo. "Sweetie, Santa is not going to take your toys away." "I DO NOT WANT SANTA TO COME! NO!" "I know, darling, he's not GOING to take your toys. He's going to bring you new toys. You don't have to give the old ones away unless you don't want to play with them anymore." "NO!" And on and on.

Things are getting better, maybe. She came downstairs yesterday dressed in the Wee One's rainbow-striped sweater, hat and mittens, with little red elf slippers on her feet. "I am Santa Claus," she announced. "That must be what he wears on his day off," I replied, peering over the newspaper. "You are Comet, and my little sister is Rudolph. Papa is an elf." We made wrapping paper at a friend's house, and she suggested that we send it to Santa Claus at the North Pole so he could use it. "To wrap your presents?" I asked. "No," she said, looking at me warily. Ah, well. There's always next year. Perhaps by then she'll forget that her killjoy mother told her that Santa the Evil Elf was coming to take away all her toys.