George played Father Christmas at the village fair.
His wife joined the queue and asked him to fix their leaking tap.
George said he was only taking requests from children under ten.
She handed him an old promise in his own handwriting. Then she asked him to look at the date….
The village needed a Father Christmas, and George volunteered. He said it would be nice to make a few people happy.
His wife, Linda, asked whether he wanted a list.
George said he meant the children.
The organiser gave him a red suit, a white beard and a large chair. Beside it was a sign saying the grotto was for children under ten.
George asked whether that was a strict rule.
Usually, the organiser said. Why?
Just checking.
He settled into the chair and practised looking cheerful without letting the beard fall into his mouth.
The first child wanted a bicycle. George listened carefully, asked about the colour and made a note.
The second wanted a puppy. George explained that this was something to discuss with the parents first.
The child said she had. That was why she was asking somebody else.
George promised nothing specific.
At the tea table, Linda watched him make another careful note. She went home for a few minutes.
When she returned, she joined the queue carrying an envelope.
The organiser asked whether she was collecting somebody.
Yes, Linda said. A promise.
George saw her coming and adjusted his beard.
Ho, ho, ho. What would you like for Christmas?
The kitchen tap fixed.
The organiser suddenly found something to arrange on the present table.
George said Father Christmas normally dealt in toys.
You asked what I’d like.
Wouldn’t you prefer something you can unwrap?
I unwrapped the new washer eight years ago. It’s still in the drawer.
George said he would have a look when he got home.
Linda opened the envelope.
Inside was the Christmas card he’d given her eight years earlier. He had written a cheerful message, then added a promise at the bottom because she had mentioned the tap during breakfast.
I’ll fix it next Saturday.
Linda held the card where he could see it. George recognised the handwriting immediately. He wished he’d written something less specific, like soon.
The organiser asked whether everything was all right.
Perfectly, George said. I’m just explaining the age limit.
He pointed to the sign. Requests were for children under ten.
Linda pointed to the date on his card.
Good. Your promise is only eight.
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