Santa Claus

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I was at my wits’ end last night.  An hour into bedtime, and Robbie was still going strong.  I couldn’t take anymore.  And, before I knew it, the lie was out of my mouth.  After the fifteenth time Robbie asked me “why” he had to go to bed, I snapped and said, “Because it’s dark outside and Santa makes the rules.  Santa’s rules say all little boys have to be asleep when it’s dark outside.”

Robbie’s eyes got huge, and he said, very seriously, “Want a merry Christmas, Mom.  Stay in bed.”  And he did.  Until 2:30 in the morning when he crawled in bed with me.

I’m not proud to admit that I pulled the same stunt this morning when Robbie refused to brush his teeth.  In fact, he had pretty much refused to do anything, evidenced by his arrival at daycare in his Gargamel jammies (not really, they are just green striped pajamas with bats on the front).  He did, however, brush both his top and bottom teeth when I talked to him about Santa’s list, saying, “Want presents at Christmas, Mom.”

Unfortunately, none of this worked tonight.

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