Santa Baby
"Jamie sweetie, don't tease your sister," Ronnie told her six year old as she picked up knocked over beakers on the kitchen table.
"But mummy-" Jamie began, his blue eyes wide with indignation.
"No 'buts'," Ronnie stated, shooting him a look that told him to do as he was told. "Come on, Sophie – eat your breakfast, otherwise Father Christmas is going to be upset."
"Why, mummy?" Sophie asked, blinking whilst pushing her spoon around in her chocolate Ready Brek.
"Because," Ronnie began, shifting her five month old daughter to her other arm and finally sitting down at the kitchen table. "If you don't eat all your breakfast, Father Christmas will find out and he won't be delivering any presents for you tomorrow morning."
It was the morning of Christmas Eve in the Branning house and three Branning children had awoken at the crack of dawn, already excited for the coming two days. As Jamie and Sophie had crawled into their parents' bed, Ronnie had inwardly sighed, wishing that her husband's plane from France hadn't been delayed because of bad weather. Just as she was thinking that, Grace had begun to cry and Ronnie had had to walk to the nursery and soothe her baby.
Now, three hours later, the four Brannings were seated around the kitchen table, trying to kick start their brains in a bid to get through the next day. Well, that statement seemed to apply more to Ronnie than the three children.
Sophie's mouth opened in an 'o' and her bottom lip quivered. "But I've been good," she said softly, looking down into her chocolate porridge, her blonde hair falling across her face as she did so.
"Yes, I know that sweetie. But today, you have to be extra good and eat all your breakfast and all of your lunch and all of your dinner, even all the vegetables."
"And then I'll get my pwesents?" She asked brightly, her head lifted up and her face beaming at her mum.
Ronnie nodded her head in confirmation as she brought a cup of steaming coffee to her lips and took a much needed sip. Grace gurgled in her arms, her hand curling around the fabric of Ronnie's top and pulling it slightly. "Hello sweetie," Ronnie cooed, putting down the mug of coffee and taking her daughter's chubby fist in her hand. "Nice to see that you've woken up again, Gracie, especially as you woke mummy at six in the morning and then decided you were going to go back to sleep."
Sophie giggled at her mum's conversation with her baby sister before quickly spooning her porridge into her mouth.
"Mummy?" Jamie called out to his mum.
"Yes, darling?"
"Will daddy get here for Christmas?" He asked, a note of seriousness tingeing his child voice.
Ronnie smiled widely at her son, trying to reassure her son. "Yes, of course he will. He's just stuck in France for a little bit, but he promised he'll be here for tomorrow."
"Is France far, far away, mummy?" Jamie asked, crunching his Rice Krispies in his mouth.
Ronnie shook her head. "No, it isn't."
"So, can he walk from there back home?"
"No, Jamie – it's too far to walk."
"What about driving?" Jamie enquired, frowning as he tried to think of how far away France could be.
"Yes, he could drive, but it would take a little while."
"What about sledding, mummy?" Sophie piped up, her blue eyes bright with excitement. "Do you think daddy could sled home?"
Ronnie giggled at her daughter's sheer innocence. She reached out a hand and gently passed it over Sophie's soft blonde locks, so much like her own before nodding her head. "Yes, he could sled home for Christmas."