Santa

The other day, the kids and I were driving home from school and Connor said:

Soon, we get to go to the mall and see Santa and tell him what we want for Christmas!

There was a bit of a pause and Sasha responded:

Why do we need to go tell him what we want when we've already sent him a letter?

Ummmm....

Well.

As my brain processed a hundred different possible answers, all I could do was laugh. She was right. I told Sasha she had a good point.

Why do we have them write letters and THEN go see the fat man in red?

And, now that I think of it, we tell them Santa won't come deliver their presents Christmas Eve until they are asleep because he doesn't want to be seen, yet we will take them to SEE him before Christmas.

Kinda backwards, isn't it?

I told Sasha that the visit to the mall was mainly to see Santa, not tell him what you want. But, I'm not sure she was buying it. Makes me wonder how many more years my overthinkers are going to believe in Santa.

Eh. Whatever.

I'm gonna play it up for as long as they let me!

Ho! Ho! Ho!