santascam 2004 — update

Since I’ve so far managed to escape the fiery, gaping hell mouth licking my heels in the wake of SantaScam 2004, here’s the latest update on my unintentional Christmas caper:

Last week, before MB and I went up north, my side of the family got together for Christmas. Of course, my niece Piper, victim of SantaScam 2004, was in attendance. As I sat on the floor playing a game with her, I said:

“So Piper, I heard you got a phone call from Santa.”

She leapt from her spot on the floor, plopped herself in my lap, smushed her fingers against my lips, and solemnly whispered, “Tee Tee, shhhhh …. it’s a secret.”

This went on throughout the course of the evening. Whenever a family member would inquire about the “Santa” phone call, Piper would instantly shush them. She was quite hushed and serious about the whole affair.

I called the Tuesday after Christmas to check in. Piper answered the phone in her certain way.

“Heyyo?!”

“Piper, it’s Tee Tee.”

And she was off. And chattering …. and chattering. About Christmas. I think. Now let me explain. In my family, we’ve all learned to speak “Piper.” But even with my decent knowledge of this “language,” I understand only about 50 percent of what she says. And when she’s excited like that? Fuggedaboudit. Listening to her, I briefly thought, “Hmmm …. my niece has the gift of tongues.” Clearly, she’s just more spiritual than the rest of us.

As her “Piperspeak” blew by my ears at truly dizzying speed, my niece would frequently stop and burst into hysterical, hiccuppy, little girl giggles. I couldn’t figure out how — or when — she was even breathing. Whatever she was saying, though, she was just cracking herself up. It was utterly irresistible and I, too, soon dissolved into hysterical, hiccuppy giggles. It was probably the best conversation I’d had in quite a while.

Finally, there was a bit longer pause. I thought perhaps she’d passed out. Pressing the phone closer to my ear, I managed to hear her heavy breathing on the other end. She started to giggle again, then I asked:

“Piper, did you leave some cookies out for Santa?”

Giggling and heavy breathing stopped. A hush fell over our conversation.

“Ye-aah.”

“Oh, that’s good! Did he eat them?”

“Ye-aah.”

“Wow. That’s pretty neat, huh?”

“Ye-aah.”

There was a pause, then she whispered these exact, polite words:

“May I tell you someping ewse?”

“You may.”

She was suddenly back up to full volume and speed:

“HE WEFT ONY WITTLE KWUMBS, TEE TEE!”

“Wow! Really? Santa must have been really hungry.”

“Ye-aah. But we dint gib him a wot ’cause he’s so big.”

“Well, that was a good idea.”

“Ye-aah.” She was hushed again. So I said:

“Well, what should we do now?”

“I dunno.”

“Hmmm …. well, I could get you!” She loves to be “got.”

She chided me, “Tee Tee, you’re not eben in my house.”

“Well, I don’t know. I still think I could get you. You’d better run!”

And you know what? She did. With the cordless phone. Across the wood floors. I could hear her little feet running, racing. Once again, she and I were both giggling uncontrollably as I “chased” her through the house.

Again, probably the best conversation I’d had in quite a while.

Piper ran and I chased — complete with “gotcha” noises — until we were suddenly “busted” by mom. My sister took the phone, and, rightly assuming it was me, said:

“What are you DOING, Tray?”

“Chasing Piper.”

“Oh …….. WHAT?”

Hmmmm …. it’s hard to explain, I guess.

Just the best conversation.