Thursday, December 27, 2012

Dear Santa,

I hope your big night went smoothly. It was a little tricky on my end. You see, my 11-year-old, Audrey, had some major doubts this season.

She took to leaving more than one letter to you this year, and, as you probably realized, they contained some difficult questions. "I asked him how old he was last year," Audrey told me. "I want to see if he remembers."

Maybe she thinks you're slipping. Anyhow, I was interested to hear that you told her you were 304 last year. The cold weather must agree with you. (Take a multi-vitamin?) Now, I'm no mathematician, just a guy who writes pretty good dialogue and plots he usually can't figure out until the final page, so I was damned glad for my daughter's clue. But when she read your reply, she looked up at me, glanced down at the letter, and then back at me, head tilted. From where I sat, I could see that you write in cursive, something I haven't had much practice with in many years, but I've got to say your penmanship is a little lacking.

I was up pretty late on Christmas Eve, so I tried one of the cookies (hope you didn't mind), and I glanced at the letter. She asked what people get you for Christmas, seeing how you do so much for everyone else. I have to be honest here: I actually stayed up really late and may have glanced at your reply, too. (It was really nice of your favorite elf Stanley to get you some new snowshoes since you told him you'd gained a little weight. In truth, I don't think anyone noticed.)

I'm thinking my daughter has what it takes to be a columnist. (All right, full-blown confession time: I spent several minutes glancing at her letter to you.) Apparently, she really told those "stupid boys" (her word, not mine, Santa) in her class what she thought, when they teased the girls by telling them you weren't real. "But I can see it in their eyes, Santa. They're scared when they say it because they know you are real, and they know what you'll do."

I told her I'm not sure you seek vengeance, like she's hoping, that maybe she could write a crime novel someday and name some characters after those "stupid boys" and watch them get gunned down or worse. (That was when my wife looked up and asked what I was telling our daughter.) "Just talking about art, Honey. Just art."

Then things got really dicey when my daughter asked me to have a "slumber party" on Christmas night. I said sure. Then she informed me that she left a second note. My guess is she's doing some serious fact-checking now.

Well, it's the day after Christmas. I'm nearly as tired as you, and my hand is sore this morning. So I guess I'll sign off until next year. Thanks again for the new tie. I can always use one. (Damned salad dressing gets me every time.)

And thanks, too, Santa, for keeping my Audrey on her toes. I know it's not easy. And, who knows, it might not last forever.

1 comment:

Charlotte Hinger said...

I think you daughter has what it takes to be a columnist too. Hope your Christmas was a bright as your daughter.