“It’s her.” He hissed it to his brother, rapping Zeke hard in
the ribs.
“Who?”
“It’s the mom.” Zeke stopped playing with the action figure he’d
had stuck in his pocket
and looked up onstage, where Nell was now directing the alto section.
“Kim’s teacher is the mom?”
“She has to be.” Deadly excited, Zeke kept his voice in a conspiratorial
whisper.
“Santa’s had enough time to get the letter. She was singing a Christmas
song,
and she’s got yellow hair and a nice smile. She likes little boys, too. I
can tell.”
“Maybe.” Not quite convinced, Zeke studied Nell.
She was pretty, he thought.
And she laughed a lot, even when some of
the big kids
made mistakes. But that didn’t mean she liked dogs or baked cookies.
“We can’t know for sure yet.”
Zack huffed out an impatient breath. “She knew us.
She knew which was which. Magic.”
His eyes were solemn as he looked at his brother.
“It’s the mom.”
“Magic,” Zeke repeated, and
stared, goggle-eyed, at Nell.
“Do we have
to wait till Christmas to get her?”
“I guess so. Probably.”
That was a puzzle Zack
would have to work on.
All I Want for Christmas
____________________
By kodomo no tomo - kodomo no tomo, Public Domain,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3137790
Developmental
psychology suggests that fantastical beliefs in children are associated with
positive developmental outcomes.
And parents need not worry, children will bust
the Santa myth themselves, when the time is right.
____________________
Just the bikes, Dad, they told him.
Santa’s making them, and he’s
taking care of the big present.
What big present?
Mac wondered.
No interrogation, no tricks, had pulled out that particular answer.
For once his kids were closed up tight.
That was an idea that disturbed him.
He
knew that in another year, two if he was lucky, they’d begin to question
and doubt
the existence of Santa and magic.
The end of innocence.
Whatever it was they were
counting on for Christmas morning,
he wanted to see that they found it under the
tree.
All I Want for Christmas
