T’was the twelfth day of Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring except for two little mice, perched between Mumma and I on the couch. Eyes wide as saucers, breathless with anticipation. ‘A message for me…from Santa?’ my little bloke repeated, eyebrow cocked as if Spock had just been asked if approving a second season of Gogglebox was logical. And there on the TV screen, as large as life (or Matt Preston), was the man himself…
Live from the PNP (Portable North Pole) console, in brilliant HD quality. And the first three words uttered from beneath his massive white beard had our boy’s eyelids snap open like over-tensioned roller blinds…
“Oh. Hello, Indy.”
He’s never watched ice-cream or scurrying ants with this much intensity. Santa then took him on a secret tour of his wondrous village and reviewed his entire year from his personal book of ‘Indy’ complete with pics of his wonderful birthday party mid year and the not-so wonderful time he drew all over his own legs with Daddy’s textas. It’s as if Santa’s elves had been keeping tabs on him all year. And then the moment of truth arrived, Santa’s Verdict. Was Indy on the ‘Nice List’ or the ‘Naughty List’?
Let’s just say, there were tears involved…and he was on the ‘Nice List’. I think the overwhelm of realising he’s an all but certain chance to get what he asked for for Christmas, was too much excitement for his precious heart.
And then it was Alice’s turn. And although she’s only just turned one, she was still transfixed and jumping with excitement as Santa reviewed her year and made a special mention about her starting to walk. Which totally blew Indy’s mind. (more…)