Explaining Apartment Santa to a 3 and 4 year old TRUE STORY

OK, so my children burst into tears when I tell them that Santa will be here soon and we need to go to bed. My son is bawling his head off and my daughter is wailing.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I finally shout above the noise.

"Santa won't come here!" My son cries.

"Why do you think he won't come?" I ask in return, puzzled at this curious turn of events. The desert at my parents went well despite my daughter's melt down from illness and lack-of-nap.

"There's no chimney!" My daughter exclaims and once again proceeds to wail her fool little head off.

"CHILDREN!" I shout to get their attention. "Just because we have no chimney doesn't meant that Santa won't come. He will just come through the door."

"But you locked the door!" My son points out. It's true...I did. Damn him for paying attention!

"I'll unlock it." I replied.

"But then bad guys can get in!" My daughter chimed.

"I'll stay up and let him in." I told my children.

My son starts to whimper. "But...but what if you fall asleep?"

"He'll call me on my phone." I said.

"But your phone is broken!" My daughter spoke and set them both wailing again.

Damn it...why is it NOW they pay attention? Why not when *I* want them to?

I sigh and wait for the wails of sorrow to subside. My children are positive that their fate of no Santa Clause is sealed. "Well, I will have to do something to stay awake. I'll clean the living room, then take a bath while I wait for him to knock."

"Don't take a bath!" My son shouts in a panic. "You fall asleep in the bath!"

"You could listen to music and sew!" My daughter so helpfully pipes up.

"You're right. I COULD do that. I think I will." I smile at the two children who seem more calm now, knowing that Mama has the Santa Clause issue in hand.

My son however, still looks on the verge of tears. "What's wrong?" I ask him.

He once again bursts into tears. "HE'S TOO FAT! THAT'S WHY HE USES THE CHIMNEY!"

I sigh...if you can fit down a chimney...then you could...Useless to explain that to him now. "Don't worry. He's magic. Remember?"

My son once again stops crying, thinks about it and I could see the lightbulb turn on in his brain. "OH Yeah!"

"Now, it's time to sleep." I turn off the light and recite "Twas the night before christmas" by heart. Been a while since I've done that. Then I sang "Our first christmas" for the children as their song.

"Mama?" My son asks as I give him a hug and kiss good night.

"Yes son?" I reply, sure that he would burst into tears once again.

"How does Santa not burn his butt when he goes down the chimney?" His big brown eyes stare up at me, expecting an answer. Shit...

"Um........I......."

"DUH!" My daughter says in her matter of fact, I'm a 3 year old and I know everything, voice. "He throws his bag down first and it puts out the fire!"

"Well, there ya go!" I quickly agree with her.

"OH! I always wondered." My son nods, accepting this as fact.

I kiss them again, turn out the light and close the door. I love child logic. *Grins*