Christmas Wishes

Christmas lists are a tradition around here, and they get saved from year to year. I can't wait until the kids are in their twenties and home for Thanksgiving. I plan to use a few of the earliest,  cutest ones as placecards on the Thanksgiving table that year. The rest will be in a file on top of the fridge awaiting their review after dessert. I'll be waitng for their laughter and their take on Memory Lane. I think they're gonna love it.

Those wish lists are always a hoot, even since they've gotten older. We still hold to a belief in Santa around here, all of us, but I'm beginning to feel we should rethink this. It seems to be backfiring.

Here's how it's gone so far this year:

Reagan shows her list to Dad and here's how the conversation went:

Dad: Ya know, Santa has his own list.

Reagan:  I know, I've been good.

Dad:  But he doesn't bring guitars to girls that leave their clothes on the floor and toothpaste in the sink.

Reagan:  Dad, it's okay. They make them in the workshop, and I've done a good job.

Dad:  I don't know, Reagan, it's gonna be a close one this year.  Are you sure? You can deceive yourself, but not Santa – He's got his list.

Reagan (turning the page over, scribbling...) hands her list back to Dad.

Reagan is our sassy child. If you know her in real life, it goes without saying.

When Noelle was about three, her list included a reindeer and a sleigh. We told her on Christmas morning that Santa couldn't part with either one or there'd be no Christmas for anyone anymore. She went with that, much to our relief.

Even now, the girls are harmonizing in the kitchen to Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, singing too loudly, as usual.

If you give a mom a Christmas list, she'll want to bake gingerbread cookies.....

I do believe the Christmas spirit has invaded. And I think that's just fine.