346 Family Matters

Jeffrey was waiting, like every year. He re-remembered the shuffling down the chimney, the Ho-Ho-Ho; hooves scratching the roof. And like every Christmas morning, Santa continued where he had left off.

“Hello, Jeffrey!” he boomed.

“Hello, Santa."

“Still, no parents?”

“Nope. They never came.”

“I see. Well, m’boy, let’s see what we have in the sack.” Jeffrey smiled in anticipation. Santa began using two hands to fetch whatever it was.

“Must be big!” Jeffrey exclaimed.

Suddenly, Santa heard something he'd never heard before—footsteps coming down the stairs. More than one set.

“My God!” choked his mother, “Jeffrey’s been telling the truth.”

“Indeed,” agreed his father.

“I thought Jeffrey was an orphan,” Santa blurted. “What's this? Jeffrey?”

“I am an orphan,” Jeffrey insisted.

“Jeffrey!” his mother scoffed. “What a terrible thing to say.”

“I may be their kid,” Jeffrey told Santa, “but they’re not parents.”

“Jeffrey!” his father said, accusingly. “What we do for you! How can you say that? And to Santa of all people?”

“Don’t mind me,” Santa told them. “Make believe I’m not here.”

“Kind of like parents,” Jeffrey added. "You guys are the make-believe champs." Mom began to cry.

“Now look what you’ve done! Darling, don’t cry.”

“He’s denied us, Daddy."

“After all we’ve done for him. Put a roof over his head. Provided for him. Me working two jobs to pay the mortgage. You selling crafts on the side for groceries.”

Santa looked sadly at Jeffrey’s parents.

“See?” Jeffrey demanded.

“Mom and Dad, Jeffrey's a child. He can’t grasp mortgages or anything beyond groceries magically appearing in the refrigerator. You need to provide a child’s needs on a child's terms.”

“The rent?” asked Dad.

“Food on the table?” asked Mom.

“Is that enough?"

"Should be!" Dad answered.

"What about a hug? An I-love-you?”

“You can’t eat hugs,” snapped Dad.

“The bank doesn’t care who loves who,” Mom said.

“Son," Dad said, "one day you’re going to love your own enough to put every penny into shelter and sustenance for them. Maybe I don't have time to play ball—”

"—or read to you—" Mom continued.

"—but you eat and you live in our house. And pretty well."

“I’m dying here, Santa,” Jeffrey cried.

________________

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Wednesday, December 11, Day 346 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge.

366 WORDS (without A/N)

ABOUT THIS STORY:

Since the days of hunting-gathering, we have learned to lead double lives. No longer retiring after supping at dusk, there's nightlife, homework, TV, etc. We were never meant to lead double lives, yet we have evolved socially beyond our physiologies. The flipside to this is the growing dichotomy between parents and their children. With 2-parent incomes becoming a necessity, now time has to be raided from somewhere. Focused on just "making it work," financially, the nurturing suffers as this intangable is the first thing to go.

This is a very simplistic tale (gotta be, at 366 words) of trying to say all that. Nurturing according to adult nurturing machinations mislead us into thinking we as parents are doing enough. (Even when doing enough, it's not enough!) To nurture a child you must speak the same nurturing language, for which many of us are just too damn busy.

20 DAYS TO GO! THE STORIES KEEP HOME-STRETCHIN' ON IN THIS VOCAL CHALLENGE, 366 WORDS A DAY.

There are currently three Vocal providers in this 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. (Lives well) Schäfer

• Rachel (Eats well) Deeming

• Gerard (Still needs a hug) DiLeo