A Connecticut Christmas

I’ve just turned 4, as I sneak a peek at our tree, already suspecting Santa is really my mother, because why else would she be putting stuff under it in her nightgown.

I may be short, but I’m not stupid.

Either that or she’s kissing a coupla elves under that thing hanging from the ceiling she made my dad put up, or maybe even the fat man himself.

We all know how she loves a man in uniform.

Of course I’m supposed to be in bed with sugar plums dancing in my head, not spying, but I want to make sure nobody swipes the cookies I left since I’m told, over and over, that Santa, from carrying that sack, works up a mighty big appetite.

My mom, I think, could do a little better snack wise. When I ask, why just Oreos and not a little Spaghetti Marinara, she says, Santa’s on a diet, since last year it was hard for him to zip up his suit.

Now how would she know that if she wasn’t, you know, having a secret Christmas canoodle?

After skedaddling back to bed, I ask Fluffy, my cat, what she thinks. She pats me with her paw and gives me one of those reassuring, purring smiles that tells me to relax, and stop worrying.

The next morning, when I run into the living room and see Patti Playpal images-2.jpeg next to a new pair of Keds,   I decide Fluff, as usual, was right.

I then check on the cookies that are all gone, and look at my mother wearing her L.L. Bean reindeer apron and think, well, if she ate them instead of Santa, I guess that’s okay. After all, his helpers, no matter who they are, get hungry too.      6465778149_dc3d343f32_b.jpg

Little SB

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in animals, Connecticut, creative writing, Family, Home, humor, kids, words, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

55 Responses to A Connecticut Christmas

  1. aFrankAngle says:

    One never knows about Santa and Mom canoodling. Thanks for the smiles. Merry Christmas – and hope you stop by my Christmas post.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    Christmas is such a magical time for children. Those memories are true treasures. I didn’t wise up to the Santa mystery until everyone else my age already knew, at least 8 or 9. My younger brother probably knew before me.
    On the other hand, I never believed it was Santa eating the cookies and drinking the milk. Go figure.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You were a precious and precocious little SB. My brother and I wanted Santa to be real, so we never checked.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Patricia says:

    Once in bed on Christmas eve I never got up to sneak a peak in hopes of seeing Santa. I knew he wouldn’t show up until everyone was asleep. I did wonder how he got in our house,though. We didn’t have a chimney and Daddy made sure the doors were locked before he went to bed.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Sorryless says:

    I remember getting a Dapper Dan one year. A GI Joe another. Back when GI Joe dolls were the “hot toy” of the season. If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have told Mom and Santa Claus to buy me a hundred of the suckers and store them away. I’d promise them a big return on this investment too.

    Your Christmas spirit is so much more beautiful than mine, SB.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Dale says:

    What lovely reminiscence…
    You know, I can’t remember a damn thing I wanted that I got. Why is that, I wonder? My dad used to tell me how that very first Christmas, when I was still an only child, I was eight months old and he had to use foodstamps to get me some stuffed toy… I can only imagine how rought it must have been.
    After that, well, he was in real estate and made big bucks that he spent wildly (and had the two bankruptcies to prove it) and I’m sure he must have lavished us three girls.
    Is that not odd that I have zero memories of the “whats”?
    Merry Christmas to you, dear Susannah!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I was a little boy in the suburbs of Akron Ohio when I was four years old. The toy train about which I dreamt is now an antique…along with me. My older sisters made short work of the legend of Santa was a child’s belief. Cheers of the season to you.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Eilene Lyon says:

    I love Little SB’s Christmas tale.💕 My parents were happy to give Santa credit for one or two gifts each year – the rest were clearly labeled from them or other relatives. I probably caught on pretty early, but preferred sticking by the Santa is Real version, because it was fun. Fun is good!🤪


    • It’s funny what you remember. I was just this little kid who was already sprouting her cub reporter. I knew something was fishy. The romantic part of Santa should be a must for all children. The whole idea of a man in a bright red suit showing up by way of a chimney cuts the grease if you will. Have a wonderful day Eileen, and know your graceful presence is always appreciated.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. -Eugenia says:

    Delightful piece! I liked being a child with sugar plums dancing in my head! And then, adulthood knocked on my door – sigh. Enjoy your holidays, Susannah!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. -Eugenia says:

    Whoa! Sorry, Susannah about my Renard boo-boo! Methinks, it’s time for a break! 🙄

    Liked by 1 person

    • Love the word methinks. Had a friend who used it all the time as if he were Sir Lancelot. Has a nice lyrical ring to it, doesn’t it. I make cyber mistakes on a regular basis. It’s because we write so fast.


  11. You’re fun to know now; I bet you were a riot back in school!

    Liked by 1 person

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