It was just a quick trip to the jeweller's to drop off my malfunctioning watch. But it became oh so much more when in one of the display cases, Sebby spotted a Santa figure smoking a pipe. "He's blowing cigarettes" he told me solemnly. "Mmm" I replied vaguely. "What happens when Santa dies?" he queried.
Quick thinking mum, I replied: "One of his kids would take over the route" (Santa and the Mrs do have kids, right? I have never heard mention of them; I guess it spoils the image of Santa when you have to acknowledge the fact that by pulling a global all-nighter, he probably isn't in great shape to be jolly with his own kids on Christmas morning).
I am fairly certain that young master's concern comes not from sadness for the Claus family or worry for all the children who have no other source of Christmas gifts, but for the weight and size of his own stocking on Christmas morning. But have no fear Seb, Nana always starts every New Year by hitting the sales for items to stuff into the ever-growing stocking (but that's another blog) some 11 months and 25 days later!
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