Who doesn’t love Christmas! What a simply fabulous time for parents to lord it over their children – or was it just me?
I had a ball this Christmas, getting Missy to do all kinds of things she might normally turn her nose up at, or resist, like an acrophobic at a bungee jumping convention. Vegetables were eaten, baths taken, and bedtime adhered to, sort of, – as I menacingly held the phone with my dialing finger pointing threateningly at the numbers. “I will ring Santa, you know – I will – don’t tempt me!”
My wife thought I may have overused it just a bit when Missy was annoyed at me one day; she picked up her toy phone, and sans the threatening bit, actually called Santa straight away. I didn’t receive any warning, just: “Santa, Daddy is very bad. No presents for him!”
Still, despite all my idle threats, it was a super fun filled day.
Christmas morning came, and to see Missy’s face as she inspected the half eaten carrot and an empty glass of wine was priceless. I was, however, a little concerned she insisted Santa would need alcohol.
The opening of presents commenced, and a fabulous day was spent in the company of dear friends. It was our first Christmas with Missy truly aware of what the holiday season is all about: ie 5kgs of ham, a turkey the size of a small country, mince pies, party hats and bon-bons. It was gluttony on an industrial scale. Ah, the joys of Christmas.
But Christmas is also a bit more than simply eating too much. Children demand adults take stock and brush aside the cobwebs of age. There just isn’t any better way to shake off grown-up cynicism, than to spend it with wide-eyed children celebrating a stranger in fancy dress breaking into your house at night. The simple wonder of a child. Best present ever.
Being Dad 