I Hope You Dance (Artemi Panarin)

First Christmas Theory

Artemi

"Okay, So what does this do" I ask picking up another kitchen utensil.

"Those are tongs, not a claw machine" she laughs as I chomp them together over and over again making loud sounds.

"What are they used for" I ask.

"To pick things up or roll or flip them if it's too hot to use your hands" she explains.

I lean over the counter and start to squeeze her arm with them and she just looks at me weird.

"What are you doing" she giggles.

"Well you're too hot..." I trail off and she rolls her eyes.

"Give me these things before you hurt someone" she insists taking them out of my hands. I laugh as she puts them away and closes the drawer.

"What do you want to do today" I ask her.

"I don't know, I don't usually make plans. What do you suggest" she asks.

"Well it's getting close to Christmas, do you have a Christmas tree to set up" I ask.

"No. I've never bought one before" she admits.

"What about stockings" I wonder looking at her fireplace.

"Why would I put up gigantic socks" she counters.

"For Santa to put treats in" I argue.

"Why would he do that?"

"For the good little boys and girls around the world."

"That seems a bit silly" she claims.

"It's what Christmas is about. Didn't you..." I start but stop myself.

I suddenly remember that she never celebrated Christmas. She never made cookies for Santa or leave him a list of things you wanted most. She wasn't up Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come and she wasn't up early Christmas morning in her pajamas running down stairs to see all the gifts Santa had brought her. No. She didn't get to sing along to Christmas music with her family or build a snowman. She didn't get to be a kid and never experienced the innocence and sense of wonder that is the holidays.

"Didn't I what" she finally asks.

"Didn't you write your letter to Santa this year" I reply.

"Santa isn't real" she insists.

"Of course he is" I insist.

"It is mathematically impossible for one person to-" she starts but I cover her mouth.

"Are you done" I ask and she smiles.

"Why are you trying to get me to write a list to Santa" she asks.

"Because you never got to and I think it would be fun. Plus I have no idea what to get you" I admit.

"Okay, I guess we can write a Christmas list for Santa" she says and I light up.

"Really" I gasp.

"Yeah, it will be fun" she smiles.

"You got some pens and papers" I ask.

"In my office" she nods.

"Sweet, lets go" I say grabbing her hand. I pull her down the hallway and grab for the handle but it was locked. It was always locked.

"Right" she mumbles grabbing the key from on top of the door and unlocking it.

I've actually never been in here before. It's where Hank stayed when she was away or was being bad and where she spends most of her nights but I've never been in here. It was kind of a beautiful disaster. Everything color coded and organized and everywhere. It wasn't like hoarding, there was space to walk and I could see everything in here. It was just a lot.