George Aged 4 – Countdown to Christmas Blog – 14 sleeps to Christmas.


Hi, George here. Keep driving on home for Christmas, now.

Christmas is still 14 sleeps away. It is taking forever to come this year.

To help the time pass quicker, Grandad referred me to this poem he found on the internet. It is an interesting poem and doubly interesting that it is by someone who is too scared to put their name to it.

Anyway, here goes.

Santa’s New Idea by Anonymous

Said Santa Claus

One winter’s night,

‘I really think it’s only right

That gifts should have a little say

‘Bout where they’ll be on Christmas Day.’


So then and there

He called the toys

Intended for good girls and boys,

And when they’d settled down to hear,

He made his plan for them quite clear.


These were his words:

‘Soon now,’ he said,

‘You’ll all be speeding off with me

To being the Christmas joy and cheer

To little ones both far and near.


‘Here’s my idea,

It seems but fair

That you should each one have a share

In choosing homes where you will stay

On and after Christmas Day.


‘Now the next weeks

Before we go

Over the miles of glistening snow

Find out the tots that you like best

And think much nicer than the rest.’


The toys called out

‘Hurrah! Hurrah!

What fun to live always and play

With folks we choose – they’ll surely be

Selected very carefully.’


So, children dear,

When you do see

Your toys in socks or on a tree,

You’ll know in all the world ‘twas you

They wanted to be given to.


Now that is scary! Do you think it is true?

I have a very long and distinctive list of gifts I would like Santa to bring me, this Christmas.

I am fairly confident that the toys I want Santa to bring have the mutual love, affection and respect for me as I have for them. So, one side of me is confident and thinks there is nothing to worry about.

But there is another side of me that is afraid. Very afraid. What if a toy I do not connect with or is boring chooses me?

That is possible you know. Worst still what if one or some of Sister Freya’s toys choose me instead of Sister Freya and there is a high possibility of that. I guess I would just have to pass them on to Sister Freya. But would the toys then go off in a sulk because they are hurt. and would I end up with no toys.

The whole situation is fraught with worry, pain and danger.

It is another stress to add to Christmas, as if I didn’t have enough already.

For a start the days take much longer to pass in December than any other time of year. Then, I have to watch out because Santa is observing me. I can’t cry. I can’t even pout. I can’t be naughty. And I’m expected to be nice. Phew!

He watches me when I’m sleeping. He knows when I’m awake. He knows if I’ve been bad or good.

And I thought if I got all that right I was guaranteed the presents of my choice. But now I find out it’s a lottery as to whether the presents I want chose me.

I see the idea came from Santa himself. You have to realise Santa is an old guy. I’m not being ageist just practical when I say, let him stick to doing what he’s best at, the delivery side of the business. Tell him to leave the bright ideas and brainstorming to the younger, sharper more switched on intelligent folk.

See you tomorrow if I can cope with the stress! keep on truckin’.