By Helicopter – obviously! The sleigh might be able to fly, but if there’s no snow on the ground, alternative arrangements have to be made.
Yesterday, one of our local Garden Centres held an event where Santa Claus arrived by Helicopter to start his festive season meeting children in their Grotto. It was absolutely fab. I think I enjoyed it more than the kids.
We waited in the cold for at least 20 minutes, before we saw the helicopter in the distance. Well Santa well and truly milked the start of the festivities. A good 10 minutes he was zig zagging back and fourth before actually landing on the make-shift helipad. I wonder if they make a do of him leaving, bet he doesn’t spend as long in the air then! Well, it was worth the 10 minutes of juggling two children in my arms, having various other parents looking on and offering to hold one for me! (So nice).
It wasn’t just the spectacle of him arriving in style. No. He didn’t arrive alone, he had a whole host of his pals with him. Not just Elves – who’d have thought Santa was such good friends with Peppa Pig and Mickey Mouse?! It really was good. Lucy even managed to get her face painted, which is always a bonus. Well, a bonus until she’s had a meltdown about not getting to wave bye bye to the helicopter, then it just looks like we’ve not washed her face in a month.
Typically, my phone battery died just before Santa arrived, there for we took no ‘Selfies’ with his Elves, or photos of the big guy himself. Shame really, but hopefully we will get to go again next year.
It’s days like this that make me so thankful for 2 healthy children, and being able to make memories like these. But it also made me wonder – who started the myth of Santa doing the seemingly totally unrealistic job of delivering presents to all children on Christmas Eve?! And how has it become such a widely known tradition?
Well, I did a bit of reading. A teeny bit. Surprisingly, It’s not all about Gold Frankincense and Myrrh. Apparently, it began quite a bit before that. The gift giving bit that is. Turns out, there’s a guy from Turkey called Nicholas. It all stemmed from him being somewhat special. Eventually he was commercially morphed into a big man who wears a red suit, says ‘HO HO HO’ a lot and drinks Whisky.
Here we now are, arguing over how much money to allocate to the big guy, and how much to allocate from parents. Over a tradition, a belief, which will all come to an end at some point for our children.
Who knows what subjects of discussion are raised in the playground. Not so long ago, I overheard a child telling another child that Santa wasn’t real. For good measure, she added in that the tooth fairy was also fake. ‘It’s just your mum’ she said, ‘I’ve seen her putting the presents in the stocking.’ I can’t even describe how I felt for the boy when she said that. He put up a good argument, but you could hear him doubting himself. A childhood dream shattered with only a few words.
Well. I am going to be one of those mums, trying to hold onto the belief for as long as possible. It’s for selfish reasons. The look on the faces of all of those kids yesterday, it really is priceless. It makes me so happy so see them happy. Such a cliché. It’s keeping the kids from outside influence on this subject that is the hard part. Once they go to school, you lose all control over theses beliefs. That is why I will make the most of festivities with my children, before they turn into Kevin and Perry type, eye rolling monsters. Children are not children for long, and you never know what is round the corner.
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