He can be overwhelmingly wearying.
And in his worst moments, he can be hopelessly terrifying.
But then, there are those times when he is (mostly in public) unmistakably endearing.
But a little context will be necessary for this story.
As a family, we have chosen not to participate in the whole Santa racket, including the more recent Elf on the Shelf tradition. This is not a condemnation on those who do, but just eliminates a whole lotta confusion, stress, and lying on my part. The kids play along and sit on Santa's lap at family gatherings but know who the real gift-givers are. They have also been instructed NOT to tell unsuspecting family members and friends the truth behind the big guy in the red suit. One of my children, who shall remain nameless, is still in trouble for the year she thought it her mature duty to enlighten a second cousin. We've all been scarred for life.
So this year, we had a bit of a problem when I arrived in Victor's classroom to volunteer one morning only to be told that Victor was terrified of the class's Elf on the Shelf visitor. He had mostly calmed down after he and his teacher had a talk but I could tell by his questions when he sat next to me that his little brain was trying to figure out this thing that wasn't real but that everyone said was real was not really real but really could move about the classroom and watch their every move. He had no idea what to think or believe.
Thanks for the warning.
By the time he arrived home from school I had secured another family's outgrown Elf so that he could touch it for himself. But he arrived before the Elf arrived. He did say that he was allowed to look closely at the classroom version later in the day but was not allowed to touch it. Never fear, dear son, your anxiety is about to be put to rest. Soon enough our on-loan Elf arrived (which Victor was quick to point out couldn't be an Elf on the Shelf because it wasn't on a shelf so he told everyone it was an Elf in the Hand on the Shelf) and after a moment of fear, he picked it out of my hand, finally understood how big/small the thing really was, and fear vanished. Now he enjoys telling me what Kringle, the classroom elf is up to.
So we talk a lot about the elf not being real, Santa not being real, Santa not being the source of gifts, etc...
On Saturday, Isaac had a concert at Strawberry Square as part of Harrisburg Symphony Youth Orchestra. We take turns going to these concerts so that one parent can stay home with Victor and it was my turn to enjoy a nice quiet outing (I may or may not have planned the concert order so that this concert happened to be my turn). However, the Good Doctor decided that a mall would be somewhat more Victor-friendly than a formal concert hall so planned to take him. I said that was fine as long as they sat/ran/jumped far from me and didn't make contact.
I found my usual spot on the second level and they sat right behind the orchestra, right next to the drums and .... right in front of Santa.
Mr. Victor found many opportunities to sit with Santa and to chat. Santa gave him a sign on which to write out his wish list. For something to do, the Good Doctor obliged.
Later, Santa asked to see the list and then whispered something to his assistant.
And the next thing they knew, Victor, that old sweet talker, was the proud owner of a towering teddy bear that has the special distinction of having ridden in the holiday parade with the Big Guy himself.
On one of their hundreds of rides up and down the escalator, they took a detour to my section where Victor promptly told me that Santa must be real because he gave him a gift from his list.
Thanks, Santa.
P.S. I'm not really mad at Santa. How can you be mad at a guy with a good heart who got suckered by a cute sweet-talking five year old?
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