The Christmas Countdown

“How many sleeps until Christmas, Mommy?” Toby asked me excitedly on his way to skating last week.

“Twenty Six,” I answered back honestly.

Toby would have none of it.

“But MOMMY I already HAD lots of sleeps…. so HOW MANY sleeps until Christmas?”

“Twenty six, Toby” I re-delivered the cold hard truth “There’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“But MOMMY,” he insisted, “FOR EXAMPLE I slept LAST night. So HOW MANY sleeps until Christmas?!?!?”

I delivered the heartbreaking news to him for a THIRD time.

His little head bowed and he stared solemnly at his hands and in a voice of utter defeat, sighed, “But MOMMY…I ONLY have TEN fingers to count with!”

I suggested he count his toes.

Toby set to work at counting his toes. Initially, I was surprised that, despite his mitts, thick socks and winter boots, he was able to discern that his left foot has in fact got 5 toes on it. But I was slightly disappointed to hear that his right foot only has 4 toes.

“No, Toby, you were right before, your feet each have 5 toes on them,” I corrected.

“Uh, NO, Mommy” he replied back with such a tone of adolescence you would swear we were debating something much more sophisticated than the number of toes on his feet, “My RIGHT foot only has FOUR toes on it.”

The victory of his ability to count through the multiple layers of winter wear was working against me in this instance.

Sometimes it’s better to just MOVE ON, so I quickly summarized and redirected,

“OK, well actually it DOESN’T. Both of your feet have FIVE toes so you have TEN toes and TEN fingers which is TWENTY and if you count both eyes, ears, mouth and nose,” I said pointing to each one slowly, “ You get TWENTY SIX which is the number of sleeps until Christmas.” (Thanks heavens we hadn’t had this conversation the day before or I would have been SOL.)

There was silence from the back seat.

I turned around and was met by a grim look peeking out at me from underneath he layers of full snow attire.

(Let me just say, it is REALLY hard to take your kid seriously when they are in full Michelin-Man-winter get up.)

I gave him some room to process the complex mathematical proposal I was setting before him.

The silence and solemn glaring from the back seat continued.

Finally I asked him, “Well, Toby, what do you think?”

Breaking the frozen look of despair he sighed, “I think, Mommy that you’re right.”

As I started my victory sigh he continued his thought for me,

“Except that I STILL only have FOUR toes on my right foot.”