Ainslie Paton romance author

Christmas Magic. Not

A conversation with my ten year old nephew about Christmas morning

Nephew:              Breakfast at our house.  6am should be early enough.

Me:                       Early enough for what?

Nephew:              For you to come and give me presents.

Me:                       But you know what you’re getting.

Nephew:              No I don’t.

Me:                       So that time you got me to take you to Skater Central and we bought the new grips and the t-shirt you wanted for Christmas – what was that, like an accident?

Nephew:              Oh yeah.  So maybe 5.30am to be on the safe side.

Me:                       The safe side of what?

Nephew:              Of you being late.  You’re always late.

Me:                       Name one time I’ve been late.

Nephew:              I don’t know that’s just what Dad says.

Me:                       Great.

Nephew:              You better not be late.

Me:                       Do you know what time I have to wake up to get to your house at 6am?

Nephew:              Do I look like I care?  It’s Christmas.  It’s what you do.  So don’t be late.

Me:                       Late to give you something you picked out for yourself.

Nephew:              Yeah.

Me:                       How can there possible be a time on Christmas morning that’s too late for that.

Nephew:              The time to give me presents is any time.

Me:                       You’re related to me aren’t you?

Nephew:              Unfortunately.

Me:                       So, no presents then.

Nephew:              I was only joking.  (Under his breath) No, I wasn’t.

Me:                       I heard that.

Nephew:              You were supposed to.  Okay come at 6, but don’t be late.

Me:                       How about I give you the present now and I can come at a more respectable time.  It’s not like you’re five and you believe in Santa.

Nephew:              Don’t say that.

Me:                       Why, it’s true.

Nephew:              But it’s the magic of Christmas.

Me:                       Something you know isn’t true is the magic of Christmas.

Nephew:              No, getting presents is.

Me:                       Even when you picked them yourself.

Nephew:              Forget that, it’s not important.  What else did you get me?

Me:                       What do you mean else?

Nephew:              You did get me something else.  (Way less confidently) Didn’t you?

Me:                       I got you exactly what you asked for.

Nephew:              Good.  (A thoughtful pause)  What did I ask for again?

Me:                       Moolah.

Nephew:              You couldn’t just say money could you?

Me:                       No, I wanted to annoy you.

Nephew:              Well, you’re good at it.  6am on the absolute minute it goes there on the clock.

Me:                       And what will we do at five minutes past?

Nephew:              Open presents

Me:                       That will be exciting.  Not.

Nephew:              This is what happens to you when you don’t believe in Santa.  You don’t have any Christmas magic

Me:                       You don’t have any either, and you’re a kid, and you know exactly what I’m getting you.

Nephew:              I don’t know how much.

Me:                       And I’m not telling you

Nephew:              How is that fair?

Me:                       It’s Christmas magic.

One Response to “Christmas Magic. Not

  • sanns526
    4 years ago

    *sigh* Kids, ya gotta love ’em. Right? All I know is that my 3 1/2 year old granddaughter is giving my daughter and SIL a run for their money and as we say in Texas, they are paying for their raising! LOL!

    Shelley

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