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Normally, Nyla had never been one to really care about Christmas decorations. The only few times she tried to set something up was when she had custody for Layla over Christmas. And before she returned back to patrol that wasn’t a lot of times. She treasured every second of it anyway, sure. But she still wished that she could’ve spent more time with her daughter.
Like with many things she was certain to have failed at, she tried to make up for it tenfold. And so it was mid December as she dragged the Christmas tree into the living room. The pine needles creating a hell of a mess to be cleaned later.
“I thought we weren’t gonna put the tree up until next week?”, James announced, slowly treading into the living room that was now Nyla’s reign.
“We weren’t, but… I figured it’s never too early for the tree, is it?”, she huffed between breathes while she heaved the tree into an upright positions, leaving James unsure if she wanted help or not.
“And also… the girls are gonna be happy when they come home from school.”, Nyla marked proudly and James smiled. “That they will. Speaking of… what are we teaching Leah about Christmas?”
Nyla, bemused by the question carefully roamed around in the load of boxes to find the perfect ornaments.
“What do you mean what are we gonna teach her? Santa brings presents once a year because the children were good.”, she answered absently minded, discarding the ornaments for now. She’d have to wrap the fairy lights around the tree first anyways. So she tore open the next box.
“Yeah uhm… and that’s what I’m concerned about.”, James stated, his mug tightly grabbed between his hands, while he eyed the tree.
“The idea of Santa is pretty messed up, you know? It’s a big, fat, white man who breaks into your house to give you presents made by tiny people who know whether you‘re good or bad. How do they know? I don’t want Leah to think that she’s being stalked. Also, isn’t it kind of deceptive for us to be lying to her about a nonexistent being?”, he blabbered, marching up and down the living room. “Also, doesn’t it subtly encourage a worldview in which rich people are superior to poor people as ‘Santa’ brings more gifts to one than the other? Also-”
“James Murray.”
Nyla was crouching on the floor, the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers. Immediately, James stopped in his tracks as she slowly rose from the floor, looking him dead in the eyes, the grin on her face depicting either madness or… well… insanity.
“Stop talking. You’re ruining it.”, she uttered, emphasizing every word with a swing of her hand.
And James just stood there, perplexed but not yet ready to give up this conversation. “Okay, but my arguments are pretty valid-”
“Leah is three.”, Nyla interrupted. “The only thing she will care about when it comes to Santa Claus is whether the present he has for her is chocolate or a dinosaur. Nothing of what you just said will matter to her. If she is anything like her sister, Lia will be one of the most well-adjusted and down to earth kids that have ever walked the face of LA, I promise. But let us please just have a normal Christmas, alright?”
James eyed his wife, standing there between pine needles and boxes, looking at him with slight intent of murder and so he sighed, raising the hand that wasn’t holding the mug in defeat. “Alright, fine. I just don’t want our kids to turn out mindlessly privileged.”, he gave in and Nyla nodded. “And they won’t. But teaching them about Santa Claus or not is not gonna be the turning point for that. So let’s just… decorate the tree, bake cookies and… celebrate the big fat man, okay?”
"Okay...", James sighed, earning a smile from Nyla.
"Great. And now help me with the fairy lights."