Hunter’s parents are out of town
He walked in Monday, dropped his bags, adjusted his red super-hero cape and asked me, “So Nonna, are you really happy to see me here for 2 days?” Naturally! I am.
I took Hunter to pre-school Tuesday afternoon. It is in an older home in a slightly rural setting and all the mommies gather to visit on the front porch before the teacher unlocks the door.
On Santa Claus.
I am visiting with the young mommies and rather flattered that I was mistaken for one of them briefly, though as I expressed to them quite candidly, “If I had a 5 year old at my age, I’d shoot myself,” (though the morning cuddling is divine). When suddenly I become aware that the very black-and-white-no-gray-area, pragmatic grandson, Hunter, is causing terror in the heart of a darling little long-haired girl with this announcement: “There is no Santa Claus. He is not real, he is a fake. My mommy and daddy told me the truth.”
“He is real. There is a Santa Claus – he comes to my house,” she countered, then to her mommy, “He is saying Santa Claus isn’t real.”
I tried to get him to stop…several times. Several. Times. But he just would not. He terrorized the little girl and any other child who would listen with his no-Santa declaration.
When I tried explaining to him later that it is not up to him to tell other children what he knows about Santa, but that he should allow their own parents to explain that, he countered incredulously with, “Well, her mom was the one who told her there is a real Santa Claus.”
My own kids were also the dashers of Santa dreams during their public school years, with Stormie being the greatest offender. You know the joy many families get from perpetuating the Santa Claus story during Christmas? Well, apparently our family finds that joy through shooting it down. YIKES! Mea culpa…I really did feel bad. Touchy subject.
Other Hunterisms:
He and I were watching cute internet animal videos and I was oohing and aahing over the mini-pigs that are only the size of newborn babies full-grown. When it showed a woman cuddling with one while she was watching TV I asked him, “Don’t you want a little mini-pig, Hunter? You could cuddle with it. How cute?” He gave me the what-is-wrong-with-your-logic look, took a deep breath and informed me, “Nonna. My house is not a farm.”
Hunter, after seeing Stormie’s jar of pennies: “Why do you have all this money? You need to be giving it and not keeping it all to yourself.”
On the way to the airport the other day, DP and Tara in the front seat, Hunter and Tredessa in the back, they were singing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” joyfully anticipating the Christmas season ahead and Hunter got pretty agitated when his dad sang silly or changed the words or tune. He wanted a straight-up version apparently. Because on the next run-through, when Dessa started shouting out those little phrases that many people like to add: “Like a lightbulb,” and “Like Monopoly” to fill in the Rudolph story, Hunter stopped them cold. “We have to sing this right! Tredessa back here is being all funny.” But Hunter was not amused. Hunter does not want humor added to something as serious as Christmas!
Hunter loves to wrestle and engaged his Auntie Stormie in a battle.
Hunter: In the name of Jesus! (runs over and karate chops the Aunt. The Aunt grabs his wrists, immobilizing him)
Hunter: I said ‘IN THE NAME OF JESUS!’
(Stormie giggling, still holding his wrists, Hunter gets quiet)
Hunter: (whispering VERY quietly): God, help me.
(Stormie begins laughing so hard she lets go of his wrists)
Hunter: See? God told you to let go!
Stormie and Hunter were looking at pictures from his birthday party. Stormie: Do you remember you were sick at your party? (Hunter nods) That was pretty stinky huh? {30 second pause}
Hunter: You could smell my illness?
You might imagine that an an actual argument about the proper use of the word “stink” ensued. He is literal. That keeps us laughing. Ho! Ho! Ho!
images: Hunter around the time he turned 5 in October…does anyone doubt that he was actually piloting that plane? I don’t!
