My husband comes from a large family with a whole set of holiday traditions. Some of these traditions are typical of all families and some are slightly unique. For example; each Easter my Mother-in- Law makes dozens of cascarones (confetti eggs) that the children hunt and then crack on the adults heads. It’s great fun and a mad house and I must confess that no matter how hard I bathe, I still find bits of confetti for days.
Another tradition is a visit from Santa Claus. My Brother-in-Law carries the suit in his trunk and then when things are pretty busy he grabs an unsuspecting member of the family to play Santa. This year was no different, there we were in the middle of a rousing game of Buzz Word when there was a hearty “Ho, Ho, Ho” at the door. I stood back to admire Santa out of the fray…
Red Suit with suitably stuffed tummy…Check
Skinny jeans and High Top Converse… What?
Yes, there he was in all of his glory, my oldest son playing Santa Claus. At 6ft tall and skinny as a rail, he was the least likely person I would have expected my Bother-in-Law to pick.
Now I must confess that I felt a little proud standing there watching my son patiently listen to the little one on his lap as he handed her some candy. As the mother of two teenage boys I cherish the moments when they give me just a glimpse of the men they might become, but sometimes it is difficult to see that future past the hair and the growing independence. There are days when you’re in the middle of the fray that you just don’t know if your doing anything right. I am thankful for my little glimpse into the future and will hold it in my “Mother’s Heart” .
Who knows maybe the writer in me just might find a way to put this episode in a story.
Writing on the Sidewalk