Well Played, My Boy

So, have you ever been proud of something your child said? Something endearing that you desperately want to share with your family and friends? But you hesitate. You want to expound on the sweetness and virtue of your child, but you have a secret inkling that you may have just been played? Yesterday, I had one of those moments. My oldest son said something so incredibly sweet that my instinct was to say, “Get the hell out of town!” I want to believe it was heartfelt, but I have a feeling he was simply telling me what I wanted to hear. Or, probably more accurately, telling the big man in the red suit what he wanted to hear.

I will let you be the judge.

Last night, Ruanita and I were both feeling rather lazy, so we talked ourselves into getting Chipotle for dinner. I was nominated as the lucky woman who would run out and pick it up. Any time I run an errand, I try to take one of the kids with me for a little momma/kid one-on-one bonding time. This time, I said, “Come on, Lucas. Ride to Chipotle with me.” He happily complied.

We chatted on the way there about various unimportant and inane topics. On the way home, I decided to do a little Christmas fishing. We have pretty much completed our Christmas shopping for the kids at this point, but I wanted to gauge how well we had done. So I asked Lucas, “If you could have one—and only one—present for Christmas, what would you like?” Only one. I figured he would say “a giant Bionicle” or “every Pokemon card ever made.” Actually, I quickly thought of half a dozen things that I am sure Lucas would like. I suspected he would have trouble limiting his desires to one toy. My children are not shy about telling me exactly what they want exactly when they want it. They tend to have a bad case of the overly entitled “I-want-its.”

Lucas was quiet in the back seat for a few minutes. Yep, definitely having trouble narrowing it down, I thought. Eventually, he spoke up. He asked, “Does it have to be something Santa brings?” Umm....weird question. I guess not. I suppose it doesn't have to be something Santa brings. I explained it had to be reasonable, however. No requests for a million bucks or anything like that. Lucas thought for a second longer. Then he said, “I would like my one present to be spending Christmas with my family.”

I sat there dumbfounded for a moment. Finally, I responded with, “Yea....right, Lucas. That means that you would get no presents. No toys. Your only gift would be spending the day with your family.”

I peeked at Lucas in the rearview mirror. He smiled at me. “That's okay, mom. I love my family, so that's the only present I need.” He grinned from ear to ear.

So? Total BS, right? Totally scamming me and Santa both? I wanted to believe he was sincere in his lovable sweetness, but my Spidey sense was tingling like crazy. I suspect my little charlatan of a son was playing me like a fiddle.

Well played, young man. Well played, indeed.