“Santa came to the first grade today,” 6-year-old Stacee told her younger brother, Matthew, as she unbuttoned her coat and shook the clinging snow onto the floor.
“Santa Cwaus?” With two fingers the little boy scooped a piece of melting frost into his mouth.
“The real deal!” His sister said with studied awe. “He called me a cute little boy, and I said, I’m a girl.”
“Did you sit on his knees?”
“On his lap. And told him what I want.”
“Then what?” Matt was caught up in the tale.
“Everyone else sat on his lap and told him trains and dolls.” Stacee paused for maximum effect. “He gave us candy canes.”
“Candy canes?”
“Red and white and very sweet.” She giggled as her brother licked his lips.
“Then what?”
“We ate ‘em. Teacher said, Don’t throw your wrappers on the floor. But everybody did.”
Matthew’s face grew solemn as he absorbed the flagrant rashness of these envied, older kids. “The real Santa Cwaus, for sure?”
“For sure!”
“Did you pull his beard to see?” Matt could not disguise the mischief in his voice.
“No, but I smelled his breath!”
“Peppermint?” The younger child asked.
“Peppermint!” His sister affirmed.
.JPG) |
| Stacee and Matt used to have the most intense discussions. **** Leaving a plate of peppermint bark out for Santa this Christmas will keep impostors at bay:  Find this recipe at: http://www.food.com/recipe/peppermint-bark-345124 |
