Miss Q took extra care with her letter to Santa this year. Not only did she ask for a stuffed white tiger and a giant stuffed reindeer, but she also wrote Santa a separate note, on a different piece of paper, asking him how the reindeer were and what Mrs. Claus was up to.
In her six-year-old way, she carefully asked me how to spell the big words like ‘elves’ and easily added the filler such as ‘can’, ‘cookies’ and ‘the’. When she was finished she signed the note ‘love, Miss Q’ and then began the task of fitting both notes into one envelope.
Keeping up with momentum, I piled all three littles, clutching their letters, into the car and drove them to the mailbox. (For the record, we went to the mailbox at the drugstore, so driving was in order.)
They took turns pushing their individual envelopes through the slot; each making a magical wish for the envelope’s speedy delivery as the big guy must be getting bogged down with requests this time of year.
Then they waited.
The truth be told, they mostly carried on with their lives, playing, going to school, being kids. I write mostly, because Santa was never far from Miss Q’s lips. While the mailman’s visits to our house were sporadic, if she happened to be here when the mail was collected, her eyes scanned the envelopes, looking for anything jolly or merry.
I didn’t know how much she was waiting for a reply until Miss C’s Santa letter arrived last Friday. Miss Q, Miss S and I were on our way to Seussical the Musical (fabulous production) so we didn’t have time to stay and listen, but Miss Q remembered when we returned.
I read the letter outloud and watched Miss Q give a satisfactory nod at the end. The events were unfolding according to plan.
Miss Q and Miss S’s letters arrived yesterday. The flurry of excitement as Miss Q pulled them from the mailbox was more than I’d anticipated.
Right, get your game face on, I reminded myself, as I read Miss S’ letter.
$^##$@. No, not a typo, just me swearing inwardly as I began reading Miss S’s letter. It was exactly the same as Miss C’s; exactly. Exactly. Maybe they won’t notice, I thought as I tried to put emphasis on different words. It had been four days since the last letter was read.
“Hey, Santa wrote the same thing to Miss S and Miss C,” Miss Q’s voice cut through my jitters.
“Sounds like, eh?” One thousand reasons for the similarities pranced in my head as I finished the note.
“Can you read mine?” Miss Q sat down in front of me, eyes as large as Jupiter, glinting brighter than the sun. She handed me the piece of paper.
“Hello Special Friend,” I began. Bloody Hell. Miss Q’s letter was exactly the same as her sisters. So much for her carefully worded questions, best six-year-old printing… But then again, the elves at Santa’s mailroom were volunteers…
And that ol’ Grinch was so smart and so slick, He thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.
I began reading Miss Q’s letter very slowly, very carefully, adding flourish here and sprinkling niceties there. ”Are you sure you want me to keep reading?” I asked between sentences, mostly so I could think up the next line.
Miss Q’s mouth was wide open. I don’t think she’d taken a breath; she was hanging on every word. ”Yes!”
Crap. I kept reading, taking mental note of what I was changing; and, more importantly, wondering how much of this letter could she read herself. Most of it. ARG.
When Santa signed off, so did I. I placed her letter with Miss S’s high atop a shelf where I hoped it would spontaneously combust, or at least float to the North Pole where Santa could reword his work and voila, problem solved.
Thankfully Miss Q was simply over the moon with what she’d heard and didn’t press for her letter. The circle was complete. Her mum had been right: you write a nice note to someone and they’ll write you back. Santa hadn’t let her down.
All good right? Wrong.
Miss Q has show and tell this week. Every Wednesday to be exact. She hasn’t decide what she’s going to bring, the topic just arrived this morning, but she was searching for her Santa letter.
Naturally, I’d like the magic of the season to carry on for one or two years (wait for my next blog post) so this mum’s first thought was to run to Staples and try to match the Santa stationary; however, upon closer look, it appears that Canada Post has embedded their symbols in the artwork. Of course they have.
My next thought was to scan the page, re-write it and print it out; or colour photocopy the page with a blank page over top… The possibilities are endless, but I have to do something either make her forget it came, or fix it, otherwise if someone else reads it, the questions will start flowing.
So as my puzzler puzzles, and I think what do do, I’ll dole out this valuable piece of information for any parents with more than one child sending letters to Santa through Canada Post:
Do not let your kids mail individual envelopes. That, I think, was my fatal flaw. If I’d clustered them together, the volunteer elves would have known the letters were from one household and then we (hopefully) would have had different letters from Santa.
So as visions of gift wrap flying through the air in Santa’s workshop, dance in Miss Q’s head, her mum contemplates writing her own letter to Santa. Maybe he can tuck a blank piece of his special stationary alongside peace on earth?