You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry

You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry

Conyers – 1990 & 1998

When our oldest was five years old, I decided to make his Christmas really special. As mothers, you know we went all out making homemade cookies and left them on a Christmas designed plate. Next to it would be a glass of milk and maybe a carrot for Rudolf.

But this year was going to be different.

When we tucked him in and he fell asleep, I pulled out my husband’s L.L. Bean boots from the closet (used once in about every 10 years) and the hidden largest size baking soda box that the grocery stores carried. On the rug in front of the fireplace, I laid down one boot, poured baking soda around the perimeter, lifted the boot, placed the matching boot a step ahead and again poured the baking soda around it. After several times, it looked as if Santa had sloughed off snow on his way from our fireplace to the Christmas tree to lay out his presents.

Christmas morning came and our five-year-old jumped out of bed, and with no house shoes, no housecoat – just those sweet bare feet – ran into the living room, and saw all the presents and Santa’s footsteps! Overjoyed, his eyes widened! Santa came!

Our usual festivities of opening all the presents ensued and then friends and family popped over to the see what our first born had received. He bragged about Santa’s footsteps on the rug. As the days wore on and more people dropped by, Santa’s footprints were still on the rug. Of course, he continued to show them off.

Nailed it.

When our second son turned five, I thought about pulling the same trick. But he was too savvy as he looked at the situation. The first words out of his mouth were, “Why hasn’t it melted?”

Didn’t think he’d catch that.