It’s always a good idea to hedge one’s bets. Both big boys have been very grown up about the Santa business. Boy Two said: “Of course he’s not real. It’s just you and the Panther of News. And you’re going to get me a PSP… aren’t you? Well you can pay three quarters and the P of N can pay the other quarter.”
On the one hand I’m pleased he paid attention during the fractions lesson on the other it’s slightly sad that weird old myth has been scotched.
Then the Santa Wagon hove into sight. By day it’s a flatbed truck, some lights, a PA,a chair and a capacious red costume, but by night… Jingle Bells and the dispensing of bonhomie and sweeties. Boy Two just about scorched the doormat in his haste to get there.
“How was it?”
“Fine,” he shrugged. “I got sweets and I told Santa all about the PSP I want for Christmas and I told him I’d been good all year.”
Could you call that Santa agnostic?
Boy Three is developing opinions. In the sitting room with the brothers, the jolly tree lights and the telly, he happily gurgles in his baby walker: steered into the kitchen with me, Radio 4 and the dishes, he howls in a way that hurts my ears. Funny that.
January 26 is Australia Day and we should make Australian snacks, then March 3o is a full moon. Boy One has a new calendar and he’s not afraid to use it.