Last week, we were having it out over a homework assignment. We were both tired, cranky and intolerant. One smart comment too many and I sent him to his room. As he stomped muttering down the hall, I hollered, "you keep this up and there's a fat guy in a red suit who won't be stopping here next week!"
He stopped dead in his tracks, spun around and stared at me in horror.
"You just called Santa fat! He's never going to come here now!" and he burst into tears.
Later, when we were making up (as we usually do), I told him I was sorry for calling Santa fat and I'd make sure I let the big guy know.
I thought that was the end of it, but that night as I was listening to their prayers, Matt ended with a very serious plea.
"Please tell Santa that Mommy is sorry for calling him fat. She's usually a very good girl."
Apparently, I was forgiven.
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Merry Christmas from the three of us to you!
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