For a holiday spent in isolation, Miles’s third Christmas managed to be frenetic, loud, and (fortunately) filled with joy. Christmas started early in our house, as Miles woke up at 3 AM and started yelling, “DADDY! I WANNA READ A BOOK, DADDY!”
Groaning, I staggered down the hallway to his bedroom and immediately began pleading with him to go back to sleep. “Santa won’t come until you go to sleep,” I cautioned.
“I don’t want Santa,” Miles countered. “I wanna eat all the cookies.”
“What?” I asked, hope for a smooth return to slumber quickly slipping away.
“Yeah,” Miles continued, “and make Santa go back on the roof and be sad.”
Threats to Santa Claus aside, Miles finally went back to sleep around 4:00. When it came time to get out of bed after the sun came up, it wasn’t surprising that Jaclyn and I had to wake him.
“Miles!” I said as he rubbed his eyes lethargically. “It’s Christmas!”
“Yeah,” he said.
“And Santa came!”
“Huh?!” he exclaimed incredulously. He hopped out of bed quickly after that, walking cautiously into the living room, peering around corners.
I shook my head. “He’s not STILL here, Miles. But look under the tree!”
That’s when Miles saw the presents and TOTALLY FREAKED OUT. He was also delighted to find that Santa left cookie crumbs and a note on the table, while I was delighted that Miles found that Santa had also left a deuce in the toilet.*
The morning was a whirlwind of wrapping paper and virtual visits with family far and wide. If you asked Miles what his favorite present was at any point during the day, you could’ve gotten a dozen different answers. Suffice to say, Christmas lived up to his lofty expectations.
After the dust settled (WARNING: PUN INCOMING) and Miles was occupied with his new toys, I was finally able to open ours — a Roomba. Miles immediately dropped what he was doing, retrieved his boxing gloves, and attempted to beat the ever-loving hell out of the robot servant.
Recovering as I was from the night before, this morning was a late start for me. Miles did eventually beckon me to get out of bed. “Wake up Daddy!” Then, as soon as I stood up, “Build my pirate ship and choo-choo train!”
* True story of the Christmas Deuce — my excuse for finally leaving Miles to go to sleep around 4 AM was that I had to go to the bathroom (which was true), but Miles insisted I use the bathroom next to his room, and I feared that flushing would alert him to the fact I had finished. Also I thought it would be hilarious for Santa to use the toilet and not flush.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 