Last year, Lillian quickly decided the man in the big red suit is scary.
We went to breakfast with Santa at church, and as soon as he made his appearance, she disappeared under the table. And fast. There was no overcoming this fear. I carried her up to see him, with the hopes she’d see it was all really harmless. But no luck. She clung to me for dear life. She accepted a gift from him, with me as the conduit. There was neither hand-to-hand nor toy-to-kid contact with the jolly guy.
It is clear this year that she has an understanding of Santa’s role in the present giving. She’s always joyfully pointing out his image whenever we see stores decorated in the Santa-centered “holiday” theme. She’s told me countless times that she wants Santa to bring her a princess castle. I thought, great, she’s over whatever fear she had.
Today while we were driving, she announced that I needed to give Santa some money so he could buy her the castle. We chatted about this idea for some time, then I reminded her that she could just sit on Santa’s lap and ask him for the castle herself.
“You don’t want to sit on Santa’s lap?” I inquired. “How about if we write it down? Then you can just slip him a note when you see him.”
After some thought she finally responded, “No, we can just mail him the note in the mailbox instead.”
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