Household Word
Cornering St. Nick

“I know that you won’t buy me PlayStation 2,” said Lew, “so I’m going to ask Santa for it.” His face was aglow with anticipation. “Do you think he can get me an iguana, too?”

We found St. Nick holding court in a garland-festooned gazebo decked with glitter and fake snow. There was a big crowd waiting to see him. Children squirmed, parents forged lifelong friendships and one family used a cell phone to call for pizza delivery in a line that reached from Baby Gap all the way to next Christmas.

This was a new experience for me. Neither of my other kids would ever agree to sit on Santa’s lap. Maybe they were scared of his power, his fake beard or his breath.

Not Lewis.

He had a mission and a list that included action figures, computer games and an iguana. The only way he was going to get that kind of stuff was to talk with the Great One himself. So we waited.

“Can iguanas live in the North Pole?” Lewis asked as the line crept forward.

After two bathroom breaks (the woman behind us held our place) and a quick trip to Mrs. Field’s Cookies, we were almost there. A photographer, in full elf regalia, collected $5 from each parent who wished to document the precious holiday moment with a framed instant photo. Lewis quickly reviewed his list and I dug crumpled bills out of my purse. It was our turn!

I gave my son an encouraging little shove toward Santa’s throne. He didn’t move. He dug his sneakers into the plastic snowflakes and instead of clambering up on the velveteen lap, turned to me and said: “Actually, I changed my mind. I don’t really want to see him.”