My son is a pagan. Or something along those lines.
Recently, during one of my daily “breakdown of the school day” rap sessions with my little 2nd grader (a.k.a. behavior update and/or early planning for teacher Christmas payoffs) I discovered that Jack has recently had Santa Clause on his little brain.
I shouldn’t be surprised.
I’ve used Santa Clause as a widely effective source of bribery for years now.
“Hmmm…haven’t been brushing your teeth? Ummm…wow. I hope Santa isn’t paying attention…”
“Oh, man. That sounds like a lie. Santa doesn’t like liars.”
“Pretty sure Santa wouldn’t be happy with little boys who refuse to give their mama a chicken nugget.” I’m not proud of this one.
The point is, I have perhaps played the Santa card a few more times than necessary. And I’ve seen the error of my ways.
During our talk I asked Jack if he’d given any thought to what he might want for Christmas this year. He answered, “Yeah. I’ve already talked with Santa about it.”
Um. Unless Jack’s a card carrying member of the Santa-of-the-month club this news threw me a bit.
I asked him, “Do you mean last year? Last Christmas? You haven’t had a chance to talk to Santa this year.”
He looked at me, brows furrowed, “No, I don’t mean last year.” Insert a gigantic “DUH” here. He didn’t say it (smart little man) but it was heavily inferred.
“Well then, when have you talked to Santa?”
He answered, “At night. When I’m in bed. I talk to him about stuff. Mostly about Christmas.” Having frequently shared nighttime prayers to Jesus with this little man I was a little confused.
“Do you talk to him every night?”
“Nah. Mostly w hen I’m in trouble. I figure I should let him know what I want for Christmas, you know. Before you get a chance to let him know I’ve been naughty.”
The little deviant. He’s trying to get through to Santa before I can. He’s effectively created a fool-proof system wherein he can commit an offense, tuck himself tightly into bed, download his wish list on Santa and wait for me to realize I’ve been bamboozled.
The student has become the master. Well played, little one, well played.
I would have been in trouble big time if either of my girls were Jack! I don’t think I could keep up, haha!