Saturday, December 26, 2009
Seeing as how I don't believe in fairytales of any sort, I've already told The Duchess that Santa is a bunch of hooey. Of course, I put it to her in more p.c. terms than that, but the message was clear.
Poor sweet girl. For the past month her head has been filled with Christmas movies on television, all of which feature Santa and or Mrs. Santa, pictures of chubby elves peering off every advertisement and songs about Jolly Old St. Nick being piped over the Muzak system in every store. She just can't quite reconcile what I've told her with the reality of seeing the fat bearded man at the mall holding children on his lap and looking quite obviously like Santa. She knows I've never lied to her, but she SEES him with her own eyes for hell's sake!
So I continue to play along and label her Christmas gifts with tags that read, "To: The Duchess, From: Santa." Rudolph gives her gifts, as well as Buddy the Elf and Vixen and Mrs. Claus are very generous as well.
As is tradition in our house on Christmas morning, Daddy reads the tag and hands the gift to the appropriate beaming recipient.
Daddy: "To The Duchess from Mrs. Claus!"
The Duchess: *squeal!*
Daddy: "To The Duchess from Donner!"
The Duchess: "Oh my gosh!" *squeal!*
Daddy: "To The Duchess from Buddy the Elf!"
The Duchess: "Buddy?!" *squeal
So on Christmas morning as The Duchess was nearing the end of unwrapping the ginormous pile of gifts bestowed upon her by various reindeer, elves and members of the Claus family, she looked at me and said, "Mommy...now go get the presents that you and Daddy got me!"
Mmmm hmmm. Those damn fairytales will screw you over every time.
Posted by Amy at 8:14 AM