Santa is Always Right

Christmas is a pretty cool time around my house the past few years.  With two little kids and a little stability, we are providing the context for them to have a great holiday.  Santa is also a big motivating factor at our house for about a month each year and it will be sad when that behavioral tool goes away.  You all know what I mean.  It provides a great series of "if, then" situations you can leverage to your advantage. Mostly leading to not getting any toys if you don't do something.

"If you don't go get in bed, then Santa won't bring you any toys."

"If you don't eat your green beans, then Santa won't bring you any toys."

"If you don't stop pinching your sister, then..."

What amazes me is the power of Santa.  If you replace Santa with me, for instance, the threat goes largely on deaf ears.  I attempt to strike the fear of me into them every once in awhile but as my wife would say, I'm typically a softy and bend to their wishes. (so sue me, they are my girls)

The power of Santa to be all knowing is dumbfounding to me as well.  Ruby, is a shoe afficianado, much like her mother and father, and in an effort to keep her in some seriously fast kicks, her and I had been shoe shopping for the past few weeks.  WEEKS!  I had taken her to countless stores to find the exact shoes she wanted that were:

1. Faster than any other kids in her class shoes.

2. Looked black and had both three stripes and a swoosh.  (somehow she thought their was a magical hybrid brand of Adidas and Nike somewhere in existence. In actuality she knew that Daddy wears both to run and so does Mom and she wants to please us both I guess.)

3. Have laces and no Velcro.  She recently learned how to tie her shoes and according to her infinite wisdom, is way too old for Velcro.

You see my dilemma.  I was unaware of this mythical shoe but on Christmas Eve Day I made a run to Dillards in Zona Rosa in Kansas City.  My prayers were answered.  This place has tons of kids shoes.  They are a bit pricier than other department stores but at this point it didn't matter.  I found what I thought was the perfect pair, sort of white and purple with laces, and a swoosh.  As I bantered with the sales associate at check out I turned around to just admire this store, it really is a nice place, brand new and very shiny, and was struck by a vision of the perfect shoe. "Don't ring me up yet.  Do you have those in a nine?" I questioned.

"I take it she is a bit of a Tom Boy?" asked the assistant.

"Sort of." I replied.

While she loves throwing people (Judo), soccer, climbing trees, she also loves dress up, makeup, and other "girl" things.  I would say she is like most other little girls or boys for that matter and her ideal shoe does not necessarily label her. 


On a side note, her last pair of running shoes, were "boys" shoes as well, which we didn't actually know until we went to soccer practice and a boy on the other team was wearing the same shoes.  In regards to these shoes, they are yellow and black , so they can be Tigers or Hawkeyes, so that's a bonus, they tie, and they have the name Flash in the title.  Pretty much a slam dunk by Dad here.

I rush home and wrap them up (using the Santa wrapping paper) and put them in the hiding spot until they wenr to bed.  In the morning as the carnage of boxes and paper littered the floor she opened her shoes from Santa.  Her first comment, "See Dad, Santa knew exactly the shoes I wanted."

Of course he did.