Hard to ignore the fact that Christmas season is here. Not with the Mak-Tatos bugging me to put up the tree since bloody November. Complete with the whole guilt trip of who already had a Christmas tree while we didn't. The tree finally came up with a little help from ever-reliable Kuya Anton (the family's in-house Martha Stewart) who came armed with twin reindeers fresh from production for the boys to decorate.
The boys can now lay off the guilt trip even if Mak thinks "we have too little decorations". That boy wants the house to look like Christmas threw up all over us. Boohoo. Wrong mom. Technicality on our choice of decor aside, it's officially Christmas over here.
And then there's the whole business about Santa. As parents: Do we ? Should we? My parents and grandparents were all out with the whole Santa deal way back when. So, yes, over here, until the time is right, Santa "comes" over in the middle of the night, Christmas Eve when else, always while we are all asleep, gulps some of that chocolate drink we leave for him and brings THE presents. Assuming they were nice not naughty, of course. MammaMia used to tell us if we were naughty Santa would give us carbon. Spanish for a word I never quite figured out what exactly it was but assumed naughty kids received a sackful of charcoal on Christmas Eve. That was enough to keep me nice all year. (yeah right)
So anyway, with the tree up and the Christmas spirit in full force, it was time for the boys to write Santa Claus. Imagine how annoyed I was when I saw this from Tato. No hi. No hello. No please.
This was his sweet little note last year. What the hell happened in the last 365 days?
My blood seriously reaching boiling point, I told him there was no way I was sending that letter. And then I got this.
Change of mind with toy choice. No change with that ultra- fresh approach. One teeny tiny step closer to getting charcoal. Then the final draft.
The pleases and thank-yous and niceties all accounted for, along with the request for a ridiculously popular toy that isn't even available on this side of the world. Good luck, Santa. Then again there's always Santa's trusty little relative elves from the other parts of the world. Then again there's always carbon.