OK, so I haven't written in quite a while, but I've been caught up in the Christmas maelstrom. I'm sure you are familiar with it and are most likely afflicted yourself to some degree. Christmas, Christmas everywhere, and I love it! In contrast to how Christmas music in October sounds like a cat yowling at the moon, now it is beautiful, so beautiful that you wonder why you would ever listen to anything else. This Christmas is a big one for us because Sam is 4 1/2 and really and truly "gets it." He is totally gangbusters about all the Santa lore. He already said that he wants to make chocolate chip cookies for Santa and has sternly informed Daddy Mac that he better not eat them all. Out of the mouth of babes, I tell you.
So we've been doing it up, making gingerbread cookies, which I don't think I've ever actually done before now. I discovered a Toll House version of pre-made gingerbread dough at Walmart of all places which was nothing short of phenomenal, the best gingerbread I've ever had, hands down. I'm already contemplating squirreling away several of them into the back of the freezer before they go bye-bye for the season. Yes, they are THAT good I tell you! I may be serving them at Easter dinner. (Invitees beware!)
Yesterday in true Richmond tradition, we set off to pay homage to the infamous and truly legendary "Legendary Santa" at the Children's Museum. WOW -- we were so incredibly lucky on the timing. We got there a few minutes before noon, and Santa was just coming back from lunch. (Not sure if he took the reindeers and sleigh through the drive-thru at the McD's next door or if he just brought along polar bear salad sandwiches from the North Pole. No need for an insulated lunchbox there, huh?) You Richmonders who have waited for hours and hours year after year may want to strangle me, but the line was downright, umm, short. A perky elf whisked us right into the hallowed Santa chambers to witness him coming down the chimney and greet all the little kids.
I've always been a little cynical about the whole Miller & Rhoads Legendary Santa thing since I didn't grow up in Richmond, but this was amazing, the stuff of which childhood memories are made! What a gorgeous Santa he is and so abundantly kind and warm. The kids were so overjoyed they couldn't contain themselves (worse than usual). There was one noteworthy exception, however, the little one-year-old girl who thought Santa was going to chop off her fingers one by one and then move onto her toes. So Mommy and Daddy got to have their pictures taken with Santa, too! Guess they'll be having a family Christmas card this year.
Aside from the traumatized baby, each child would SPRINT over to Santa when it was their turn and give him a big hug. I neglected to mention an important part of the protocol -- first you see the Snow Queen and only then to you get to see the Big Man. So it was Sam's turn to chat up the Snow Queen, and he was pretty uninterested because, quite simply, she has no toys to dole out ever. Then it was Sam's big moment -- him running over to Santa. And then, you guessed it, my cameras batteries died. Kaput. Nope, nothing. You just can't make this stuff up or no one would believe it.
This year he has been all over the place on what he wants from the cool light fixture in the dentist's office (I kid you not) to a Zhu Zhu pet (pronounced "Zoo-Zoo") because he heard his friend Sydney talking about it in passing. We're talking mechanical hamsters here, not really up his alley. While we were in line, I kept coaching Sam to tell Santa he wants a bicycle and foos/fooz/phooze (sp?) ball table because, let's face it folks, that's what the little man is getting whether he knows it or not. Plus, more importantly, Zhu Zhu pets sold out way back in September and are up to $200 plus on Ebay and climbing. All I wanted for Christmas was for him not to ask Santa for a Zhu-Zhu pet. Heck, I'd settle for any other Christmas miracle that would get me off the hook.
So Sam gets up there and says he wants a bike -- phew -- and a freakin' Zhu Zhu pet! Oh my God I was starting to sweat. How the hell am I going to get a Zhu Zhu pet in a week without selling my soul or my body or both? Let's face it --I was screwed. Santa was going to let him down on one of the two things for which he asked, a 50% failure rate! He'll be telling his therapist all about it when he is 25.
When out of my wandering ears ("eyes" in "The Night Before Christmas") did I hear, "Well, Sam, my elves and I are back-ordered on that toy right now. You see, so many boys and girls all over the world want one. Here's the best I can do -- I can leave you an IOU, and you'll get it in late January." And Santa looked over at me who had finally given up trying to revive my batteries, asking, "Okay with you, Mom?"
"I love you, Santa," I blurted out, feeling as elated as Rudolph when he got to drive the sleigh that night. Sam and I scampered off, and I gladly forked over an obscene amount of money for a few 3 1/2 x 5 photos. He earned it. He granted my wish for a Christmas Miracle.
LibbY
