Back then, I thought I would remember every conversation they had with the old man in red but all I can recall is the sight of their hair standing on end from the static of their puffy hoods.
Except, that's not true.
I remember one.
That year, I knew exactly what my two-and-half year old son would request from Santa.
To him, as long as a toy talked, walked or did something mechanical, he wanted it.
Most all of the toys he already had either talked, walked or did something mechanical.
Except, they didn't.
They all required batteries and I never had them.
He would come to me time and time again holding up a toy hoping I could make it work and I'd repeatedly say, "Oh, it needs batteries."
As he sat on Santa's lap this memorable year, he asked for a bird (his word for the red, talking parrot he ran to see every time we passed KB Toys at the mall).
He marveled at the "bird" who repeated everything he said as it frantically flapped its wings up and down.
And, as I predicted, he asked for a Mister Bucket.
Whenever the commercial came on, he delighted in the children running and laughing as they desperately tried to toss balls into the whirling bucket.
But, what he asked for next I didn't see coming.
At first, I didn't understand.
Neither did Santa.
"Ba-rees," he said.
Santa looked to me for help.
My son repeated much like the talking bird, "Ba-rees. Ba-rees."
Was my face red when I finally got it and had to explain to Santa...
Batteries.
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| The year Santa got off easy. |