The Outsider: Ho ho oh no ...
|By Will Jones - The Outsider | December 21, 2017|
Most often, when I sit down to pen this missive, I look back at my week and conjure some rambling tale from the blundering, accident prone, catastrophe that is my everyday life. Today, however, I feel compelled to tell you about a foreboding that I have for events in the near future. You see, I am worrying about Christmas and most importantly Santa Claus. Put simply, I don’t know whether he’ll be visiting us this year.
Now, this isn’t because Little Z has been a bad boy, far from it. My son is, thankfully, quite a good little fellow, whom for the most part is a pleasure to be around. The thing is, Little Z is now eight (eight and five-and-a-half months, if you ask him) and I’m beginning to suspect that he is beginning to suspect that Santa may not be quite as real as we try to make out.
I don’t have any hard evidence to say yet that he doesn’t believe, and I’m certainly not going to be the one to break the news to him, just in case my fears are unfounded and I let the proverbial Christmas cat out of the bag prematurely. However, his knowing glances at the pile of brown boxes stacked in my office – I tell him they are copies of my latest book – and the fact that the elves made a right pig’s ear of his advent calendar this year (I put all the little treats in the wrong holes in the homemade calendar!) give me cause to wonder whether the magic of the jolly fella in a red suit is beginning to fade.
And then, most worryingly of all, is our tradition, passed down from my childhood days, that Santa turns on the Christmas tree lights when he’s made the all-important delivery. Now, I know for a fact that the belief bubble burst for me on the Christmas morning of my ninth year when I heard ‘Santa’ fart as he tiptoed up the stairs before climbing into bed with my mum. That toot, unmistakably one of my dad’s, quite literally blew away any shred of belief that I may have held onto.
And now, it is I who sneaks to turn on the lights. I must run the gauntlet so silently to carry the Christmas torch for another year. In the past, it has been easy because Little Z has been sound asleep but this year there’s a whiff of something in the air (no, not a fart!), I feel he senses something afoot and I fear that he may lie waiting to catch ‘Santa’ in the act.
I've tried to come up with foolproof plans. I’ve even made practice runs to confirm the creaky steps, bypass the furniture and avoid stepping on Jeff the dog in the nighttime gloom. But, short of drilling a hole in the ceiling and re-wiring the Christmas tree lights to an outlet in our bedroom, I am not sure that I am going to be able to carry out this all important mission successfully.
So, to you all I wish a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Wish me luck and I’ll see you in 2018. But Santa, I can’t promise that he’ll still be with us.
WILL JONES - is The Outsider