The power of the written word

Father Christmas was no doubt delighted that my children broke up earlier than many, because the first task of the holiday (or so I was informed), was to write their letter to Father Christmas.

No doubt all parents can imagine my panic of what I might now hear, but I agreed to take the dictation.

My daughter's request was singular, reasonable and predictable.  My son, left me speechless.

'I want a chicken'
eh?, what?
'I want a chicken to take to bed'

Well, this wasn't my problem it was Father Christmas', so i wrote the letter, they sealed the envelope and posted it.

I could sympathise with Father Christmas, after all I, like him, live in a remote rural location with few shops, but at least he has elves.

poultry in motion

On Christmas Eve, we met Father Christmas in Dolgellau Grotto, and he appeared to not have read the letter as his response was the same as mine...eh? what?

but no doubt the elves had read it, because on Christmas morning there by the side of the stocking, sat a little chicken.