That’s how Jonah says it. In all caps. He is officially at that age where this season means something particular to him. Now, I don’t have any children older than 2 1/2, but I am going to go out on a limb and say it is all downhill from here (with respect to CHRISTMAS at least).
For now, and with little to no prodding or teaching from me, CHRISTMAS is the word Jonah uses when he sees fairy lights, xmas trees, decorations, reindeer and Santa motifs and hears certain music. He has no concept of the gift excess that may come on the 25th. From a secular perspective, he’s got it right on. His CHRISTMAS is everything happy and nothing loaded.
So we decided to be nice and bring him to see Santa (I will refrain from adding quotation marks). Specifically, we decided to bring him to see Santa at the London Zoo. I love the zoo. He loves the zoo. We all love the zoo. I go there almost weekly and I’m going to just decide right now it will always be my favorite zoo. Take that, every other zoo. Anyway, the zoo for the first time ever had Santa’s Grotto with live reindeer and everything. The whole time in line, Bryan was very seriously practicing with Jonah what he would say to Santa when asked what gift he wanted. So over and over and over, Bryan would say in a deep voice, “Ho ho ho little boy, what do YOU want for Christmas?” And over and over and over Jonah would get a very serious look on his face and pause with total concentration and then say slowly, “Police car.” Then Bryan would ask what Simon wanted and Jonah would reply “fire engine”.
So then it was our turn. And we were all so excited. And we approached the very nice Santa man and Jonah hesitated so Bryan sat down next to him and Jonah just stared intently at Santa. And this is how it went down:
Zoo Santa: Ho ho ho, what’s your name, young man?
Jonah: Police car.
Santa: Well Peter, have you been a good boy?
Jonah: Fire engine.
And you know I love me some Regent’s Park where the zoo is situated. You never know when you might walk by a fancy dress rugby match.
They were clearly practicing some moves for what would come just one week later: SANTACON. Santacon. Oh em gee. We went this past Saturday and I will do my best to make my recap brief. Achem: 1,000 Santas. Trafalgar Square. All between ages of 20-40 (except my family). All drinking. All happy. All sweeties-sharing. Stopped traffic on the way to Piccadilly Circus. Police were called. My toddler and baby caused a sensation. Interviewed, snapped by a hundred cameras, online now (check it here), universally adored. One guy told me I was, at that moment, the Greatest Mum in All of London. Yes, yes I agree. Bringing your children to a rowdy, uncontrolled, flash mob pub crawl is the way to go.
The night before Bryan told me we were going on a surprise date. My dad and stepmom are here visiting so the free baby-sitting was fortuitous. Bryan sent me some text hints and I eventually deduced that we were seeing Rihanna in concert. So we got on the tube, bound for the North Greenwich stop. Along the way I was noticing that everyone appeared white and approaching middle age. I was very impressed that Rihanna drew such a crowd. She is really a musician for all people, I thought to myself.
That Bryan. So hilarious (to himself). It was a Coldplay concert. All 25,000 fans at the O2 were given wristbands that lit up when the magical wizard controlled them to do so to the beat of the music. So 2011, they are.