Calder begged all month for a magic wand. That's all he wanted. He even asked Santa for it when he sat on his lap.
Last week we finally decided we better get him a magic wand. Cathi found one for two dollars at Zurchers, a store that sells crappy party goods.
Christmas morning... Calder is rummaging through his stocking and he ecstatically pulls the two dollar wand out and holds it high and proud, a large smile spread across his face.
With wand in hand, he waves it and says, "ABRACADABRA!"
He tries again. "ABRACADABRA!"
- Almost in tears, my poor, three-year-old boy looks at his wand and says in a pathetic, squeaky voice, "It's broken. Santa brought me a broken one..."
Christmas devastation. He spent the next ten minutes holding back tears and wondering why.
Fortunately, he received plenty of other toys that made up for his grumbling, yuletide disappointment.
The wand still lays on the floor where he dropped it this morning.
Calder is lying contently in bed right now and in his prayer he thanked God that Santa did not forget him.
The wand may have lost all it's magic, but Christmas did not.