Santa Who?

I grew up believing in Santa. I did. I had every intention of allowing my children the same joy and wonder of a Christmas with gifts magically appearing under the tree. Sometimes, however, our best laid plans become foiled. And so, at a very tender age, Joshua learned the truth. There was a Santa, and her name is Grandma.

He passed this knowledge to the younger sisters, who also discovered fairly quickly that Santa Grandma would give them just about any requested thing on their lists they wanted. Oh sure, sometimes there's a bit of negotiation, "Well, that's a mighty big thing you want, you know. You might not get anything else..." Santa Grandma has said quite often.
"I don't care, Grandma," one of the grand kids would say. "I really really really want this!"

Last Thursday, Ruth's elementary school held their Christmas concert. Joshua, the dutiful big brother he is, tagged along with me and Hannah, even though I had given him the opportunity to stay home. We walked down the aisle, found my parents, and sat down while The Boy wandered around socializing with his friends and former teachers. As the beginning of the concert drew near, he made his way to our row and plopped down into the seat next to his grandmother.

Since I am an understanding mother, I said, "You don't have to sit here if you don't want to. I don't mind if you sit with your friends."
"No, that's O.K." Josh replied while giving his grandmother a huge hug. "I want to sit next to the coolest Grandma in the world."

Yup. He knows who is the REAL Santa Claus.