Christmas Is Coming, Santa Isn’t

Surely, I accept that I haven’t been a good boy. Not at all..!!!

I was only seven when I received a gift from Santa the other Christmas as a token of appreciation for being a good boy all year round. I just don’t know what went wrong when I turned eight in January this year. At that point, everything turned around. The whole story roots from the day I placed something Dad called an “astonishing notice” on the door to my bedroom. The notice read like “BIG BOYS’ REPUBLIC. Don’t disturb” when I came home from school the following day, the notice had gone. This was enough to convince me that the whole family was against my maturity. “An 8-year-old champ is a big boy and he ought to be treated like one,” I told myself. This sparked off my revolution against dad’s old-fashioned conduct codes. During dinner on January 5th, I made an announcement that made the whole house laugh. The evening had been a boring one and everyone at the table was so silent. Thank God I was there to break the silence cause if it hadn’t been for my speech, nothing would have cheered up all the “James Bond” faces around me. I decided not to let the cat out of the bag not until everybody had emptied their plates. Everyone was thanking mom for the meal when something deep inside convinced me that it was time to give my lovely audience the long-awaited surprise. First, I coughed unusually. By doing this, I was calling upon each and everyone’s attention. I cleared my throat and my voice. Then my speech went like “unhuuuu....look, everyone, this has been your last dinner with baby Freddie. From today onwards, am not a baby anymore.” This set the house on fire. Everyone laughed their lungs out. This wasn’t the reaction I expected and It seems like no one was willing to take in what I had just said.

I felt so small and embarrassed. By the time I left the room, I was so cross and I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept asking myself....“ How could they do that to me? I mean, that is belittling me.” From that time on, everything turned over to the other side of the coin. I’ve been so violent and unruly.

Dear Santa, am sorry but I hope you understand where am coming from. Last week, mummy told me that according to the way I have conducted myself, Santa can’t even make the mistake of stopping by our home.

And when I look through the whole case, for heaven's sake I do not deserve Santa’s gift. But even though am not going to get it, I do not regret my behavior this year because it has helped me to be crowned Godzilla of our homestead. All the kids around fear me, and there is only a handful of adults who do not.

When you see me, think of a tornado, a whirlwind. I can carry on anything that gets in my way.

Have I already mentioned how I’ve been dodging school eleven times a month? Don’t worry, I will tell you how I’ve been able to skip all those boring math lessons.

I don’t know how I will face Ms. Carson when this Christmas break is over. George and I pulled off his wig and ran off during these last school sessions we attended before breaking off for holidays. I felt pity for the old lady but I couldn’t stand laughing at her bald head.

But, there is one question that I’ve always wanted to ask Santa.

Dear Santa, would you stretch your budget only for my sake if at all I decided to be good? Is an iPhone 13 or PS5 too big for a Christmas gift?.

Ok!!! Since I do not expect any gift from you this Christmas, I will stay the hard guy I am. I have to get myself a gift. Ohhh no...!!! I’ve got no cash. Not even a single coin on me. I have been scheming for ways of selling mum’s vacuum cleaner to Mr. Tom who owns the other goodwill shop around the corner. Sneaking it out of the house won’t be my problem. But, will Mr.Tom accept to buy such a thing from an eight-year old kid who is known for being naughty around the whole place? Jesus Christ!!!!!!.

A $1 tip means life to me. Thank you for fueling my dreams.

#WritingWithFreddie