“How about the next day?”
“Nope.”
“The day after that?”
Seeing a long line of questioning ahead, I shook my head, held out my hand, and said, “Christmas isn’t until after Thanksgiving. And that’s a couple weeks away.”
“But I saw a Christmas tree at the store!”
“That’s just commercialism getting a head start on holiday sales. They’re conditioning us to spend, spend, spend earlier every year. We see a tree and we think it’s time to buy presents.” I stopped, looking at the blank face of my five-year-old. “Trust me. It’s not Christmas time yet.”
“But look!” From behind his back, he pulls out his latest Lego catalog. “Lego says it’s time for Christmas.”
I sighed, shook my head and prepared for a lesson on time, days, and months. Elizabeth sat playing quietly. At two, she’s unaware of this thing called Christmas. She’s content to follow her brother’s lead and just enjoy the season. At five, Joseph is in the prime target audience for the commercials, the displays, the talk at school. He still believes in Santa and is old enough that a stuffed monkey isn’t going to cut it. He thinks Santa can get him the Lego Death Star. The $200 Lego Death Star. He’s been planning on asking for it for six months.
I’m still trying to figure out how to get around that one.
I’m wondering if Santa ever writes a letter back explaining the age appropriateness of certain toys.
In the meantime, with the first Christmas decorations going up as the ghosts and skeletons of Halloween are sitting on the floor, I have a feeling Joseph and I are going to have a lot of these conversations.
I wonder if they make a 50 day advent calendar.
