I do have to wonder how long it will take before Leo stops asking if Santa will come back tomorrow. Leo has just passed the three-and-a-half mark and this Christmas just gone was the first one where he really ‘got it’.
One thing you need to know about Leo is that he has the brain of an 85-year-old man shuffling about in his slippers muttering to himself and questioning the logic in every situation, so it took a bit of work avoiding questions such as “Do you have to buy the presents for Santa to deliver?” and “Why do reindeers only fly at Christmas and how come the ones we saw at the zoo weren’t flying?”.
In the end though, we got there and come Christmas morning his eyes were bigger than those of the troll beneath the Billy Goats Gruff bridge. Christmas Day was all he could have hoped for, even if he was unimpressed at the mess the reindeers made with their carrots.
But what I had failed to think about was the time following Christmas. Every day Leo asks if Santa comes again tonight. Not that he wants more presents, all he asked for at Christmas was “paint”. He just wants Santa to visit again and the magic atmosphere surrounding the occasion.
“What if we put the Christmas tree up again, Mummy, will Santa come again?” He questions.
“No Leo, we have to wait until next Christmas now. There is no way of tricking Santa into thinking it is Christmas, he knows when Christmas is,” I always reply.
I hadn’t really stopped to think how hard the Christmas concept, or rather the ending of the Christmas concept is to comprehend at Leo’s age. There is this massive build up, everyone goes a little bit crazy for a month or so, there are millions of presents, mountains of food and family and friends offering cuddles and kisses at every turn and then, bam, show’s over.
Maybe when Easter gets closer and I am fielding questions about why bunny rabbits lay eggs, Santa will be a distant memory.
By Rose Harris
