It was the night before Christmas, and the defences were set.
Lucy wouldn’t be caught out this year, she was certain of that. Every year her parents were content to let a complete stranger climb down their chimney, eat their biscuits and drink their milk. The hypocrites.
How long had they spent drilling into her that strangers were to be avoided? “Don’t talk to strangers” they would say, “don’t get in a car with strangers”, “don’t accept sweets from stranger”. Sweets! But, evidently, it’s OK to accept presents.
Well, despite her parents, Lucy was a smart girl. She knew that the kind of person who would break into your house while you were sleeping for a good reason, was only one bad mood away from breaking into your house for a bad reason.
Best to put a stop to it now.
The fireplace had been the first on the list. It was a big, open fireplace; exactly the kind of fireplace, in fact, that Santa Claus preferred for his nefarious activities. There was a grill just inside the chimney for keeping birds and other large objects from getting into the house, but Lucy’s father always opened it on Christmas Eve. Worse still, he made a big show of it; making sure Lucy saw him doing it, and talking excitedly about the “visitor” that was sure to come that night, like he was proud of his stupidity. Lucy had crept downstairs and closed the grill shortly after her parents had gone to bed. Then, just to be sure, she’d carefully placed some kindling and firewood in the hearth and lit it.
It had taken her a while to check all the doors and windows, and was surprised to find them all locked. Not that she had a problem with that, but it seemed to put out conflicting messages. After half an hour, Lucy was confident that the only way Santa Claus could get in would be to break through a wall. Still, it couldn’t hurt to make certain.
If Santa did get into the house, Lucy intended to make sure he wouldn’t be back next year.
She padded across the living room floor in the warm glow of the gently burning fire, her slippers brushing across the thick carpet. She wasn’t entirely sure what the bottle in her hand did, but her father had taken some of the liquid once, and had spent most of that evening in the loo making most unpleasant noises. She only hoped Santa would leave shortly after drinking the milk!
She reached the table where the milk and cookies lay, and began struggling with the child proof cap on the bottle. As she strained, something caught her eye. Under the tree, glimmering softly in the fire light, were more presents than she had ever seen in all her six years. She was too late.
She slumped down against the table, nearly knocking the milk over in the process. She was sure that one of these days, letting this lunatic into their house would come back to bite them.
On the other hand, there was nothing she could do about it this year.
She crawled over to the tree and prodded one of the shiny packages gingerly. It crinkled as the paper yielded to her touch. Whatever was inside was soft. More industrious prodding – and a little squeezing – revealed the unmistakable shape of a teddy bear.
A very soft teddy bear.
Lucy got to her feet, fighting the urge to smile, and headed for the stairs and her bed.
Perhaps she would let Santa off next year.
December 24, 2011
One response to Stranger Christmas
you never complained about santa entering the house!