Santa Has No Issues

It was a hot Christmas Eve afternoon in El Salvador.

People were rushing everywhere, trying to get the last of the shopping done for the night.

The car was loud with Barney music.

Edgardo was driving. I was next to him in the passenger seat.

We were looking at each other, trying to communicate in code.

The three backseat passengers were singing at the top of their lungs.

We had a dilemma. 

We needed to build three bikes with training wheels by tonight, without the musical trio finding out.

We couldn’t do that if we were all together. We had to take measures.

We had packed them in the car, and headed for Aunt Carla’s house.

The plan was that I would stay with them, while Dad pretended to get an emergency page from work and have to leave for a bit.

This would work. We hoped.

The back got quiet.

“Should I change the song?” I asked looking back.

Taty, our oldest, responded, “Why are we going to Aunt Carla’s again?”

“Because we can’t be here when Santa comes to the house,” I answered, looking at Edgardo for backup.

“Yeah,”  he chimed in, “How’s Santa going to get all that stuff into the house? We have no chimney. I’m sure he has to make adjustments for that.”

“Yeah,” I contributed, “Plus, poor guy has no snow. So I guess he has to figure out transport.”

Taty looked at her dad, then back to me.

Nata, and Mario kept their eyes on her, expecting some sort of comeback. 

She rolled her eyes. “He’s Santa; he’s not going to have issues.”

How could a six-year-old be so feisty?

The light turned red.

Edgardo continued looking into the rearview mirror, “You do want presents, don’t you?”

Nata and Mario yelled, “Yes!”

Taty just kept glaring.

I could feel the laser of truth burning through me.

I changed the conversation.

“Who wants ice cream?” I said enthusiastically, raising my hand.

Everyone in the car yelled, “Me!” and we all raised our hands.

It was then that we saw him. 

Coming straight at us in the opposite lane. 

He was on a motorcycle speeding by all the cars stuck in traffic.

Edgardo and I yelled simultaneously, “Look!!!” as we pointed left.

“Santa?!” we heard from the back.

“It’s Santa!” they yelled again, smiles on their faces, doing happy dances in their seats.

Edgardo and I looked at each other. Triumphant smiles all over our faces.

“Is he on the way to our house?” Taty asked.

“He is! He is!” the other two asserted, looking out the back window, trying not to lose him from sight.

The light turned green. We started moving.

Edgardo was looking out the side mirror, I was craning to see out the back window. 

The kids were still looking back, now talking about where Santa would put their stuff, how he would get in, what fireworks he would bring.

I looked at Edgardo. 

My heart overflowed with love. 

This was my family. 

I reached out and gently stroked the back of his head.

He smiled back and put his hand on my thigh and squeezed.