As my secular Christmas solstice mishmash mythos evolves with having a kid who ostensibly does or will believe in Santa, I have determined our Santa gift paradigm. Santa brings two gifts: a book inscribed with a special message, and something that could conceivably be made by elves. Traditions mean something, even when you make them up. Until I turn to dust, this is what Santa will bring my son.
I second-guessed hard these woodland creatures. L got a sandbox filled with colorful plastic molds, shovels and rakes. In less than a day, he’s already spent hours in it. How could the elf gift compete?
But it does — he loves these wooden critters. He lines them up. He marches them around. He has few words but he knows story, sagas unfolding in his furrowed brow.
Deck the halls with nightmare fuel, the Texas Mari Lwyd is coming for you.
Warmest wishes in the winter dark!
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