While Christmas shopping at the mall, Jacqui saw Santa sitting in his big velvet chair, chatting with children about Christmas wishes. We don't make a big deal of Santa at our house, so I was a little surprised when Jacqui stopped in her tracks and exclaimed, "Mommmmmmmm! I muss go see Santa! I needta tell him somefing very 'portant!"

"Are you sure?" I asked, eying the length of the line.

She placed a hand on a hip and crinkled her eyebrows, "Course I'm sure! I woon'ta said anyfing if I wasn't!"

Well OK then. Off to the end of the line we went. As we waited, Jacqui wiggled about in anticipation like a Christmas puppy. "Is he da reely reel Santa?"

"What do you think?" I had answered variations of this question many times, but for some reason, Jacqui just loves to ask questions that she already knows the answer to. I've tried to interest her in other hobbies, but no. This one suits her just fine, thank you.

"I fink he's jess preten an' da reely reel Santa was Santy Nickles and was very nice to little boys an' girls a reely long time ago. He's probly in hebben now."

"Why do you want to talk to a pretend Santa then?"

"Moooooommmm!! Dats more fun 'bout it! It's jess fun to play preten, Mom. You telled me dat it's good to maj-inate fings, 'member?"

"Yes, so I did."

Ken and I really struggled with what to do with the whole Santa thing. We basically decided to not make an issue of it and keep the focus of Christmas on Jesus where we believe it should be. Jacqui, however, is not easily put off by such things. She likes to ask question after question in ever increasing detail and somehow we just couldn't bring ourselves to answer her inquisitiveness with "Why of course he's real!" Instead, we told her the real story of St. Nicholas and explained why people like to remember the kind things that he did. It seemed to satisfy her curiosity and she deftly categorized the whole 'Santa bringing presents' issue as a fun and elaborate game of make-believe. I have no idea if we did the right thing here, because honestly, we are just making up most of this parenting stuff as we go along!

The line crept along and Jacqui became exponentially more excited until at last it was her turn and she bounded up into the unsuspecting mall Santa's lap.

"What do you want for Christmas, little girl"

"Wot's my name?"

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Why don't you tell it to me?"

"If you're da reely reel Santa you should know my name."

Poor Santa didn't look so good.

Jacqui arched an eyebrow and looked suspiciously at his whiskers. Fortunately for him we had already discussed that the pretend Santa's beard was very real and she should not bother him about it, nor should she under any circumstances tug on it to see if it would come off. I prayed like crazy for the moment to pass without a major incident. Jacqui tilted her head back the other direction as she evaluated him. Finally she said, "My name's Jacqui. You know how to spell it?"

Santa sat there looking like a stun-gun victim.

"J-A-C-Q-U-I. Dat's howya spell Jacqui. Dat's me."

Santa coughed. "Well Jacqui, what would you like for Christmas?"

"Jacqui clapped her hands and giggled. She then began chattering at 120 miles an hour... "For Christmas I would like allotta fings! A Dizz-inny Princess Talkin' Vannerty (vanity), A pink Fur-Berry, Da Fur-Real Pony, Dizz-inny Princess Dress-Up stuff, and A Real Lovin' Baby... Are you writin' dis down?? You're jess a preten Santa so you shood mebbe write fings down so you don't fergit dem. You do hab very nice white gloves though, I like 'em a lot! Mommy an' Daddy need toys for Christmas too an' I will help dem play wif 'em, OK? And don't bring me a purple yo-yo. Dat's Daddy's job, not you. Now I needta tell you what Kyle wants for Christmas 'cause he's too little to tell 'ya..."

The poor pretend Santa sat there valiantly fighting off the impending migraine while contemplating the meagerness of his paycheck. Finally, Jacqui released her velvet and ermine-clad captive and bounced down from his much-relieved lap while calling over her shoulder, "Don't fergit... No purple yo-yo's! Dat's Daddy's job."

The pretend Santa smiled and waved and motioned to one of his elves. Probably to schedule a pretend Santa break from all things pertaining to the North Pole.

I looked down at Jacqui and she was grinning ear to ear and skipping along with one hand in mine.

"Did you tell him the very important thing that you needed to?"

"Oh, yes! I telled him! Dat was fun Mommy! He's not so very good at pretenning as me."

Huh. I was completely stumped as to what had just happened and why. "So what did you tell him that was so important?"

She looked up at me with sparkles in her eyes and laughed, "Oh, I jess needed to tell him not to bring me a purple yo-yo for Christmas in case he was still pretennen' to be Santa on Christmas cause it would hurt Daddy's feelin's if da preten Santa brought me Daddy's present. Daddy said he would get me a yo-yo for Christmas an' teeched me to do da yo-yo tricks!"

"So then why did you tell him all the other stuff if you knew he was just a pretend Santa?"

"Moooommm!! I all-reddy telled you! It's jess fun to play preten an' I'm a very good maj-inator. Dat's more fun about it if you maj-inate fings." And she grinned and gave another skip as she dove towards Ken through the crowd. "Dad! Don't worry! I telled dat Santa not to bring me a purple yo-yo!"

Ten minutes later when we walked by Santa's chair once more, he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he went to go write things down... like maybe a list of phone numbers from the Help Wanted ads...!