Christmas memories, part 1
Christmas Eve, we introduced the Munchkin to the tradition of leaving out milk and cookies for Santa Claus. We even showed her the Santa tracking map on NORAD’s website to prove that he was on his way and she needed to go to bed.
I placed a small plate of cookies on our hearth, and the Munchkin carefully set down a glass of milk. I then told her to leave them there, because Santa would eat them later when he showed up to fill her stocking.
Do you think that went over well? Hell, no! She wanted those cookies!
Baby Boy stared at her in his usual “big-sister-is-carrying-on/deer-in-headlights” look, as we attempted to reason with her. These cookies were for Santa. She had already brushed her teeth. It was time for bed. She had already gotten a cookie earlier.
None of these rational explanations could conceal the fact that she was being told to walk away from a perfectly good plate of cookies that were going to be offered up to somebody that she didn’t really like. After all, she didn’t want to sit in his lap when she met him.
I finally ended up dragging her off to bed with a promise of a cookie in the morning. Literally dragging. I picked her up and carried her to her room as she screamed, with tears streaming down her cheeks, “COOKIE! COOKIE!”
It was so pathetic.
We have it on videotape.
And yes, she got her cookie in the morning (Santa was kind enough to leave her one).
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