As the curtain closes on another magical Christmas season, I had to remind the kids that Santa is still watching, and they have only 362 days to work on next year’s batch of Christmas wishes. (i.e., material rewards for civil behavior. Funny how “bribery” seems like such a dirty word.)
“So what do you want next Christmas?” I asked Tyler as we searched for places to put all of this year’s booty. “It’s not too early to start thinking about it!”
But he didn’t have to think about it. “I want suction-cup shoes,” he said.
“What are those for?”
“To help me walk across the ceiling,” was his matter-of-fact response.
“But they weren’t invented yet,” I said. “Maybe YOU can invent it before next Christmas. But still, let’s think of something else.”
This time, he thought a little longer. “How ‘bout a rainbow?”
I hated to shoot down all the kid’s ideas, but it was time for a healthy dose of realism here. After all, did he want the fat guy to slide down the chimney with something really cool or not?
“I love rainbows, too, but you can’t put one in a box and wrap it,” I said. “Besides, you can walk outside and see rainbows for free. Let’s keep thinking.”
He did. He thought for a good full minute, brows scrunched in concentration, until I practically heard a light bulb snap above his head.
“Next Christmas, I want Santa!” he declared.
Decision rendered. That’s where his list ended.
That’s my boy, the little entrepreneur. He’s not wasting his time on the golden eggs. He wants the whole damn goose.