11 December 2007
‘So’, he starts, and I can tell what’s coming, ‘how does Santa have the money to buy everyone presents if he spends all year making stuff for us and delivering it?’
‘Erm…’ I struggle, because I’ve been trying to introduce the value of things a bit this Christmas and don’t want to say something which may later be held against me in evidence. But I needn’t fear, he’s already worked it out without me,
‘Oh! I know, he makes extra toys and puts them in the shops, doesn’t he?’
‘Oh yes, that’s right…’
Last night at bedtime, ‘So, is Santa’s house next to God’s house at the North Pole? And is God still invisible when he talks to Santa, so he doesn’t know where to talk to?’
‘Ummm…’, difficult on so many levels.
‘Oh! I see they both live there but there’s a fence in between their houses and God just puts a cloak on so Santa can tell where he is.’
‘Oh yes, probably… night now!’
This morning. Early. ‘Rhianon! Santa forgot to put a chocolate in my advent stockings! Is that because he was watching me not go to bed last night? Does he hate me now?’
[Mutters] ‘Dammit why didn’t I just get one of those shop ones?... [audible] Oh, that’s not good, hon… erm… no I'm sure he didn't see that...’
‘Oh, I know, Santa just gets really too busy to keep going around to everyone’s house to fill their advent calendars so he needs mummies and daddies to help him give children chocolates, too. So I’ll pretend to go back to sleep, and you go and get a chocolate and put it in there for when I wake up next time’
Yes, sir! As my mum says, I wonder what his last servant died of?