Posted tagged ‘naughty or nice’

“Alas! How dreary would be the world if there was no Santa Claus!… There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.”

November 29, 2015

Well, I did get some names crossed off my list from shopping yesterday. I mostly went to shops in Dennis. They were filled with people. In one small shop the whole crowd walked in a single line counterclockwise as the aisles were so narrow. It was like being on a chain-gang. I figured we all should be singing the Sam Cooke song. Stopping to look made it even worse as it caused a traffic bottleneck. But despite the line, this hearty shopper managed to spend a lot of money there because their stuff was unique. I even found some wonderful stocking stuffers. I would have spent more time roaming except it was too crowded, and I could hear Gracie barking out the car window.

When I got home, I carried in my bags, checked my e-mail then I napped, a long nap. Shopping is fun but exhausting. Today I will do my laundry and call it an industrious day. I will watch the Patriots and hope all their injuries won’t have as giant an impact as we all fear.

The weather has been amazing. Yesterday was 58˚ degrees despite the rain. Today is 42˚, still too warm for the end of November. The sun is shining. It’s a pretty day.

On the first day of December we got to open door one on the Advent calendar. We all took turns otherwise we’d end up fighting about it: his turn, my turn, she did it yesterday sort of squabbling. That drove my mother crazy. Taking turns usually worked though we did argue on who would be first to open a door. I always said I should be as I was the oldest. My sister said she was the youngest so she should open it. Most times it ended up being me. For everything else we did wrong, my mother would pull out the Santa card. She’d remind us there were two lists and nobody wanted to be on the naughty one. Sometimes if we still didn’t stop misbehaving, she’d tell us we each had just lost one present. Santa sees everything. That subdued us for a while.

I once gave my sister a Santa report card to use with my nephew. He’d get gold stars or black stars in the columns underneath things like brushed his teeth, obeyed his parents or cleaned up his toys. My sister when forced to give him a black star would remind him Santa would see his report card because it was going to be left under the tree on Christmas Eve. Usually he’d start to cry and beg her not to it. He’d swear he was going to be good, and most times he was. That report card to Santa was the best motive ever to be nice.