Naughty? Nice!

The blizzard that could have given us a white Christmas came two days late. The night before last the snow fell and the wind howled through every drafty window. We were quite stuck in the house. My wife didn't get to her shift at the airport for the first time in 15 years.

We had a good day together, bound to our little house. It was an especially good day for a Boy who found an overlooked Christmas present for the second day in a row.

By the time evening came, it was decent enough to go outside to do some shovelling. We have a finicky steet light at the end of our driveway. It somehow turns itself off every three minutes or so and the driveway is dark for about a minute before the light decides to come back on. I used this timing to good advantage, resting in the dark and throwing snow in the light. It took about an hour before the driveway was finally clear. As I was about halfway up the walkway, I heard the plow coming. With gritted teeth, I went back to wait for it at the end of the driveway, leaning on the snow shovel, glaring at the plow as it pushed in a fresh drift of snow.

I cleared out the new drift and went inside, peeled off my wet ski suit hat and gloves and got to washing up the dirty dishes. Our dishwasher was full, but the box of powder was empty. I told the Boy, this was the old fashioned way of doing the dishes.

As I was finishing up, I heard the plow go by again.

The air rang blue with curses.

This morning was the day to finally get out of the house and do some chores. It started with more snow shovelling. The Boy and I worked together. It was good work. The air was crisp, the sky a deep blue, the day fresh and coated a brilliant white. We found the black of our driveway and then off we went to the shops to get some groceries, exchange a present and scout for deals. Near the end of it all, as I pushed the Boy and the cart down the aisle with the dishwasher powder and the cat food, a question came out of that clear blue sky:

Boy: Daddy, did you get all you wanted for Christmas?
Me: Well, mostly, I guess. Not quite everything.
Boy: Oh. I guess you weren't good enough.

On the Subject of Siblings.

We visited Granny and Poppa last weekend. We went up on Friday, and as is often the case with a winter drive to the Valley, we were beset by bad weather. The snow fell in big flakes, creating the illusion in front of the windshield of a star field at warp speed. Paradoxically, it felt like the car wasn't moving, since the only visible reference in the storm was the car in front of us that was traveling the exact same slow speed that we were. Fortunately, nobody went off the road.

The Boy spent the weekend playing with his two boy cousins and had a great time. They are a bit rougher than he is, and we put it down to the fact that they are two brothers in constant competition with each other. The Boy, of course, is an only child - a term with which I take some issue. Friends are always saying that he needs a brother or a sister. Encouraging us like. I don't like that either. The Boy, I tell them, is state of the art reproductive technology. Subtextually that means it was very difficult for Mommy and Me to have the one. We were lucky to get one (and he's perfect). Shut up about having another.

But on the drive home I thought I'd ask a boy what he thought.

Me: Do you miss not having a brother?

Boy: Yeah.

Mamma: Do you wish you had a brother or a sister?

Boy: I already have two sisters.

Mamma: You do? Who?

Boy: Ginger and Zoë. (Our cats, if you didn't know.)

Singing's Thirsty Work

'Tis the season to be sitting in the auditorium, watching all the young'uns up there on the stage, singing their little hearts out. It's the Boy's first Christmas concert. Mine too... as a parent. The thing I realized was that even though there were about four different grades that were singing their songs, they all sing with a single voice. Close your eyes for any of them and it almost sounds like a Peanuts special.

So the Boy was magnificent. Not shy at all and singing his little heart out. I asked him if he was nervous, all those hundreds of parents and family filling the gymnasium, but no, no stage fright at all.

We're driving home and it's late. Way past his bed time. It's a nice drive home from the school past all the houses gaily festooned with brilliant and beautiful Christmas lights. Suddenly he pipes up from the back seat.

Boy: I'm really thristy. Can we stop at a bar?

Santa Clone

Today, the Boy was invited to one of his classmate's birthday party. We spent part of the morning going to the mall to get a present for the party. The parking lot was jammed full with the start of the silly season. We enter the mall from the far end - it was the only parking spot we could find - and who should we see when we went in ... but Santa!

After a bit of gentle persuasion, the Boy decides to go sit on Santa's lap and tell him want he wants for Christmas (remote controlled car). Santa asks him if he's been good and then double checks the answer with me, gives him a candy cane and a book and off we go to get the gift. I wonder aloud about going to another mall to see if I can find Mommy a Christmas present and - whoops - mention about seeing Santa again in the other mall. Umm, Santa is fast and magical, after all. And wouldn't you know (fortune favours the foolish), on our way back out to the car, Santa wasn't there. Daddy, quick as a whip, informs the Boy:

Me: Hey. He must have gone over to the other mall.

Later, we're driving back from the birthday party and the Boy is asking me if he's been good this year because he'd like to get a lot of presents from Santa.

Me: Yes. You've been good. In fact, Santa knows that because he asked you in the mall this morning. And double-checked it with me.

I thought about this for a tick and said:

Me: In fact, Santa didn't need to ask me or you if you were good because Santa knows if boys have been good or bad. He didn't need to ask you or me. That was pretty silly of Santa!

Boy: I think there's two Santas. I think there's a Santa who lives at the North Pole with the Missus and gives out the toys and another Santa who goes to the stores.