Page 26 of Hacking the Holidays
“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” I said.
“What can I say? Awkward is my middle name,” she replied.
I chuckled and held up a finger. “Ho ho ho!” I called out to the crowd across the baked-goods battlefield. “It looks like my cookie-guarding elf has discovered some very sneaky reindeer trying to raid Santa’s emergency fuel supply! Everyone knows the rule—Santa’s sleigh runs on exactly one cookie per reindeer, or we’ll never make it around the world on Christmas Eve! Do you want presents this year or not?” I cupped my hand dramatically around my ear and waited for a response.
The cookie-obsessed mob froze mid-grab and mid-chew, then erupted in unison with a very resounding, “YES!”
“Then I command you to drop those cookies immediately!”
The words came out like a medieval king addressing his subjects rather than some nerdy guy in a Santa suit talking to youngsters.
Still, the dramatic approach seemed to work. Likemagic, every single child immediately opened their hands and let their cookies fall to the floor.
Rose was staring at me in amazement. Her elf hat was still crooked, there were cookie crumbs on her extremely short tunic, and she looked like she’d survived a tornado, but somehow that just made her more endearing.
“Now,” I continued in my apparently effective royal decree voice, “real Christmas magic only works when everyone follows the rules. And I need to finish my story! Back to where you were! I will start the reading once you are all seated again!”
Most of the kids ran to sit down in the reading area, while a few of them said, “Sorry, Santa,” before heading in that direction.
“What in the world …” Eleanor pulled up beside us and surveyed the damage. “I was gone for three minutes!”
“I’m so sorry—I take full responsibility for what happened, and I’ll pay to replace the cookies,” Rose said without hesitation.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “I saw the whole thing unfold when I glanced over during that power flicker, because I thought we might lose electricity like last week.” I gestured toward the cookie carnage. “That’s when I noticed you’d taken over for Eleanor, then spotted April Benson getting in your face. She was demanding extra cookies, wasn’t she?”
Rose’s eyes widened with surprise. “Yes! How could you possibly know that from way over there?”
“Because that’s what she does,” I said. “There’s a reason she’s known asthe weaselaround here.”
“April has turned entitlement into an art form,” Eleanor whispered. “Last month she actually argued that she deserved free eggnog at Sam’s book club because she drove so far to get here in her brand new Mercedes-Benz.”
“I caught the girl taking three cookies,” Rose said. “Her mother didn’t care.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I said.
“Anyway, that’s how it all started. I gave them another cookie just so she’d go away without making a scene.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Eleanor said.
“Me too,” I said.
“San-ta! San-ta! San-ta!” the kids cheered.
“That’s my cue,” I said with a grin, walking back over to the reading area to continue with the book.
Fortunately, there were no more incidents over the next fifteen minutes as I came to the end of the story.
“And to all a good night!” I said with theatrical flair as I closed the worn copy ofThe Night Before Christmas.
The children erupted into enthusiastic applause, their faces glowing with the pure joy that only comes from a wonderful story.
“Tell us another story!” one kid called out.
“Yeah!” screamed a handful of others.
I chuckled and held up my hands. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa needs to save his voice so he can greet you properly.” I winked at the audience. “Who wants to have a photo taken with me?”
“Me!” they yelled together.
