Santa in Plastic

When my children were growing-up, our family had the tradition of sitting around the fireplace.  My husband would play guitar and the five of us would sing Christmas songs and carols and sip warm drinks.  It all sounds a bit hokey now but it was wonderful then.

One year, when my second child, Gene, was about four, I decided to add an exciting element to the proceedings.  I purchased a plastic Santa suit and convinced my husband to wear it and make an exciting entrance into the room and then we would continue with our evening as always.

I got the three children settled by the fire.  Gene was on my knee.  In burst my husband, HO, HO, HOING.

There was a horrified scream from Gene. It continued all the way up the stairs and into his room.  We could hear the door slam.

I had clearly forgotten that Santa would not bring the gifts until everyone was quietly tucked in bed.  Gene was doomed!  His Christmas was obviously scuppered!

Well, needless to say, Ed proved his identity and Gene was finally calmed but our evening was not quite as Hallmark as it had been in previous years.

So, what’s my point?  Probably nothing or maybe “don’t mess with tradition” or “don’t wear plastic Santa suits”.  I have no idea.  Or maybe, just, hey! it's been fun.