We spent a very nice day over at Jo's parents, starting with a brunch and ending with a delightful turkey dinner. But the hilite of today was this morning's Santa story.
The boys have been starting to hear rumors of Santa's do-good-ings from their public school friends, and I happened to be walking by Cole's room last night when I overheard them plotting about how, once and for all, to determine whether Santa was indeed real.
Seems they decided to put the man himself to the test, and so they left him these notes:
Cory's note: "Santa, if you're real, please bring me 3 pairs of underwear." (Then he counted every pair of underwear he had in the house.)
Cole's note: "Dear Santa Claus, if you're real, please bring me a Santa Suit. P.S. (not a kiddish one)."
They left the notes by the plate with the goodies and a glass of milk (instead of a bottle of beer like last year), and laid down for their long winter's nap.
In the morning (at 5:45 a.m. mind you), they found this note written on the back of theirs:
Santa's response:
"Dear Cory and Cole,
Silly boys, I only have the suit I'm wearing and I'd freeze my knees without it. Cory, if you want underwear next year, you'll have to give me some notice. I was already flying when you thought of that one.
It seems to me you boys are unsure if you believe in me anymore. Instead of asking for last-minute feats even Santa can't pull off, you need to look in your hearts. Believe in what your heart tells you, and you'll always know the truth.
See you next year!
Santa
P.S. You didn't leave me a beer, but thanks for the goodies! Rudolf always likes the apple."
You'd think Santa could spell Rudolph's name by now, but...
When asked what they thought about Santa's note, they just plain said "I don't know."
No talk of him not being real though.
Unfortunately, while the boys were still revelling in their Santa bounty, Jo-Anne discovered that Joey, her pet rabbit, had expired sometime in the night of old age.
So, if you come over and happen to be digging in the deep freeze in the garage and stumble across a rabbit, there's a perfectly good reason for it.
Minnesota winters are not conducive to pet burials.
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