Friday, December 09, 2011

All I want for Christmas

Le Petit decided to pretend to be Santa Claus, or as he usually says, the père noël.  I was to be the père fouettard, the anti-Santa.  As we walked back from Grandma and Grandpa's house across the square lit brightly with Christmas lights, le Petit pretended to distribute presents as I handed out imaginary lumps of coal.

"So, Santa," I said, joining my hands and holding them open like a book, "I have a letter for you."  Le Petit stopped and listened attentively.

"Dear Santa," I began, "What I really want for Christmas is..." I hesitated, wondering if I should pretend to be a kid and ask for Legos, or just be myself, silly and honest.  

"What I really want for Christmas is... a bigger apartment!"

"But Mommy," le Petit explained slowly, as if I were a child too young to understand the rules of the game, "You can't ask Santa Claus for an apartment.  You buy an apartment. With moneys [sic]!"

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I've had a few thoughts on the subject of the apartment, and whether or not a new one will figure on my Christmas list. I'm beginning to think we'll stay put for another year.  We were lucky to find a warm, loving nanny for Mademoiselle (shared with another local family), and the two seem to have become quite attached.  Meanwhile, le Petit has settled into school and made friends.  Both kids profit greatly from having their grandparents live right next door.  Since a bigger apartment means moving farther out into the suburbs, I'm thinking that we should wait one more year -- time for le Petit to finish his last year of nursery school, and for Mademoiselle to hopefully be ready to start her first.

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We'll be heading back to Seattle in a week.  It will be my first trip back home for the holidays in over ten years.  Le Petit expects to see Santa and his sleigh from the window of the airplane, since I've explained we'll fly real close to the North Pole.  I warned him last night that the other people on our direct flight may very well be close friends of Santa Claus and thus likely to report him to the big guy in the red suit as pas sage if he doesn't do his best to keep reasonably quiet and avoid kicking the seat in front of him.  I'm not sure he buys it.  Which is good, because otherwise I might feel guilty.

He's asking a lot of questions about chimneys and just how Santa intends to make his entrance.  Since we don't have a fireplace, will he try to squeeze down the aeration conduit in the bathroom?  I reassured him that no, he wouldn't try that, certainly not with his big bag of toys.  He'll surely just ring -- very quietly, so no children can hear -- and come right on in the front door.

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