We wouldn't be American parents if we didn't use that whole Santa thing to our advantage, would we?
We've been telling Ains about Santa's "Naughty or Nice" meter, and how there's one for every kid, and how Santa can take one look at it and know whether or not presents are in order. When Ainsley has had a good day, she's heard about how the needle on her meter surely is pointing at "Nice"; in her most tempermental moments, she knows her needle has fallen into "Naughty" territory.
Yesterday was mostly a good day, but by bathtime, I'd had to issue some warnings. When I had to tell her three times to wet her hair, I'd had enough.
"Santa's watching, Ainsley. I don't think he would be very happy with you right now because you're not listening."
She thought for a minute.
"I'm probably just on the 'Kind Of Nice' list right now."
I can't argue. An awful lost of us are probably on the "Kind Of Nice" list. I wonder what you get from Santa for that, since it's not quite lump-of-coal status. Some socks, perhaps?
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