Somewhere along the way, the little guy has developed a concept of Santa. Where it came from, I'm not sure. But I guess I'm not too surprised with all of the hype that surrounds us at this time of year.
We have a cardboard book that is shaped like a Christmas tree. In it there is a picture of Santa loading up his sleigh with presents for all of the good boys and girls. But baby boy doesn't call it a sleigh -- rather it's Santa "rue-doo-doo" (his word for stroller from when he was really little. It is one of those nonsense words that has stuck).
After reading that book about a billion times, he seemed very interested in the whole gift opening part (again, not surprised. His birthday wasn't that long ago).
On Christmas eve, we put all of the presents under the tree. When he got up on Christmas morning we told him that Santa had come. When he came downstairs and saw all of the gifts, he couldn't contain his excitement. He grabbed a present and ran and put it on the coffee table. Then he ran back and grabbed another and put it on the coffee table. Back and forth he went with sheer delight.
Then he started opening them. All of them. Even the ones for Mommy and Daddy and Amma. None of us minded because he was having so much fun. And besides he was just "helping."
Later in the morning we went to the stables to visit the horses, and then to the park for a play. It was a beautiful sunny day -- just a perfect Christmas Day. And even more special than usual because Amma was there.
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