Gift Ideas

My in-law's have been e-mailing me for weeks asking for suggestions for Christmas presents. I've asked the children, oh, I don't know - maybe 300 times each. No ideas. Not a single one, except, of course, for the $80 wheelies, which I REFUSE to tell Grandma and Grandpa about.

Yesterday, while they were out of school, we went to the Mall. Deanna needed new jeans and some winter clothes, Dane needed a school sweater, Daelyn needed lunch.

Guess who arrived on Sunday? Santa. Unbelievable. How can he possibly get all his work done at the North Pole when he's sitting in Malls weeks before Thanksgiving? Does he have a new head elf who's taken control? Is he tired of making presents and would rather dilly-dally in stores across America than prepare for "the big day"? And what about Thanksgiving? Have we completely forgotten that holiday in our rush towards Christmas? Last year, we found that very problem in England. We arrived the beginning of Thanksgiving week. The Christmas decorations had already been out for so long that they were broken and pushed aside in most businesses. It made me incredibly sad to see my favorite holiday turned into such a commercial push.

However, there sat Santa. And there was no line of children waiting to sit on his lap. My kids looked pleadingly at me. Okay, okay. We all trudged over to the escalator and took it down to Santa.

Daelyn and Dane ran right up to him. Daelyn climbed easily onto one knee. Santa put out the other for Dane. Deanna hung back with me.

The boys talked and talked to Santa. In the meantime, the girl who worked there came over to me and we talked about needing to put a microphone on Santa so parents could hear the conversation. Daelyn and Dane finally finished and walked over to me. Deanna moved close to Santa to have her private conversation.

"Mama," Daelyn started, "he's a very nice man, even if he isn't the real Santa."

The girl looked at me funny. I smiled and attempted to offer an explanation.

"My children have met the "REAL" Santa," I explained. About that time, Deanna walked back up to us.

"Yeah," she said, "twice. We're on a first-name basis with the real Santa."

It was Dane's turn. "We met him twice in two different states."

The girl stared at me. I smiled back.

It's easy to be happy when you're on a first-name basis with Santa. She just doesn't understand because she's not.

I wish I could have heard what the children said, though. Grandma could use some ideas.