Sunday, January 29, 2006

Things don't get any better

Back again. Mum and Dad still make me visit Father Christmas though.
'You can say sorry as well, Wilfred,' says Dad.
Dexter has disappeared. His Mum and Dad took him home very quickly. Dexter is not forced to apologise. When the lights went out, all the baby children screamed and ran away, so now there is no queue. Dad shoves me through the tent flaps. Inside it is very dim. I can hardly see where I am going and I bump into Santa's elf.
'Watch where you're going you little...' she was about to say something rude, I was sure of it but then she says, 'you dear little boy-do you want to see Father Christmas?'
'Alright,' I say. 'Where is he?'
'Through the magical curtain,' she says.
I recognise the magical curtain as the one from off the post office window. As soon as I go through it, I see Santa sitting in a big brown armchair. His Santa suit has come undone in the middle and I can see a stripey shirt poking through.
'Ho-ho-ho!' he says. Then he stops and stares. 'So you're the cheeky little monkey who put the lights out eh? Ho-ho-ho.' But he says this not quite so ho-ho-ho-illy.
'Yes,' I say and then I remember what I have to say. 'I'm sorry.'
'Hmmm,' says Santa. looking at me closely. 'I think I know you from last year.'
He begins scratching his beard and the ho-ho-ho-s have stopped.
'Can I have a motorised toboggan, please?' I say this very quickly so he won't remember last year.
'That's it!' says Father Christmas, heavin himself out of his chair, 'you pulled my beard off last year!'
He remembered. This is too depressing.

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