It happened in a blink of an eye. I just couldn’t help myself. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve become one of those parents… a full-fledged adult who uses Santa Claus as a behavior modifier.
I’ve tried to console myself by thinking of the millions of other parents who fall into the same trap this time of year. Still, I feel bad that in a moment of weakness I pulled out the Santa card and used it on my 4-year-old.
The day started out so innocently. I had a list of errands to complete, including mailing out our Christmas cards (yes, they’re done—-after pulling two all-nighters). Unfortunately, I was short six stamps. No problem, I thought, I’ll just pick up an extra book from the stamp vending machine at the post office. Of course, having a machine that actually worked during the height of the hectic holiday mailing season is apparently way too much to ask our local post office. Hence, our 20-minute wait in a line that snaked from the parking lot to the service counter. Not exactly the epitome of fun for a preschooler (or her parent).
Subconsciously I knew getting in that line with my daughter was asking for trouble. She was already displaying signs of fatigue and was begging to go home to play with the singing snowman toy my mom sent just sent her. On the other hand, six teeny, tiny stamps were all that were keeping me from completing the dreaded Christmas card task, and I was bound and determined to get the job done STAT. So we waited… and waited… and waited.
To keep my 4-year-old occupied I grabbed one of those Priority Mail labels and we doodled on it together as we crept ever so slowly to the counter. Things were fine until my darling offspring decided to make like Hansel and Gretel and tear up the label to create a paper trail for her imaginary friends to follow. Once I removed the label from her hands and sheepishly picked up the fake breadcrumbs from the ground (as other postal patrons looked on in amusement) the fun really started. The whining, the wriggling, and the sudden inability to remain upright were met with the obligatory parental warnings and a few: “Hang in there, sweetie, we’re almost to the counter.”
Yeah right, mommy. Those words didn’t actually come out of my daughter’s mouth, but they didn’t have to, they were written all over her face.
The joyful feelings that are supposed to abound during this “Most Wonderful Time of the Year” were quickly being replaced by Scrooge-like thoughts. My breaking point came after my daughter started using my pen as a sword and accidentally knocked over a stand full of flat rate boxes. If I were a bit smaller I would have considered shoving myself into one of them and shipping myself off to Hawaii. But, instead I grabbed the fallen stand with one hand and whipped out my cellphone with the other. Then in a very low, but firm voice I warned my daughter that if she couldn’t keep it together until we got to the counter I would be notifying Santa (via a phone call) of her infractions.
Long story short we made it to the counter, the Christmas cards got their stamps, my daughter was reunited with her singing snowman and Santa is no longer on speed dial. Still, I can’t help but feel guilty about how the whole situation went down.
Do you resort to Santa threats? And if so, what’s your method? Do you merely threaten to call the big red guy or do you actually have to press buttons? I know some parents who threaten to drive down to the mall and report their child’s naughty behavior to St. Nick in person.
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