So This Is What Happened

“Christmas” morning, she woke the same time as usual. “Mama, is it daytime?” I hurried down the hallway, eager for holiday fun. “Yes, it’s daytime.” “Oh. Read me a story.” “Uh, ok.” I read “Toot and Puddle” while she played with her blue teddy bear. Keep in mind that when I was three, by this time of the morning I would have already knocked down my parents’ door several times, leading them to threaten to take away my toys before I even opened them. Actually, now that I think about it, by this time of the day, we were usually done opening presents altogether, and had passed out on the living room floor from Christmas Bloat.

Eventually...”Mama, can we go downstairs? Maybe Santa came.” “Yeah, maybe.” We meandered down. “If he came, I will be speechless when I see my stocking like Laura in ‘Little House,’ I think.” She stopped and looked under the tree. “There are new presents here, wrapped in the paper we sent to Santa,” she said thoughtfully. “My name is on them.” She looked at the presents for a few moments, chewing her lip. “Where do you think your stocking is?” I asked. She clutched my leg and looked around. Together, we shuffled into the next room, where I had artfully laid the stuffed stocking the night before (after downing Santa’s cider--which she hadn’t wanted to leave for him because “it might make him have to pee.”). She was, indeed, speechless.

I think Santa has redeemed himself.