Merry Christmas, Michelle Tanner
A/N: Alright, I've got like two other unfinished stories, but I had to get started on this one. It is going to be a Christmas present for my mom and stepfather (since I have no idea what to get them), so any suggestions of ways to make it better would be greatly appreciated. Oh, and one more thing – I'm not too great about writing view points of children, so at times Michelle might seem either too young or too old. It's set about a year after the season finale, so she's about nine.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plotline and the way it's worded.
Summary:
After a confrontation with her classmates, Danny tells Michelle there is no such thing as Santa Claus. When the group goes Christmas shopping at the mall, Michelle sets out on her own to prove that Danny is wrong.
Michelle Tanner, now 9-years-old, hummed the tune of "Jingle Bells" as she worked on her letters. She was in her third grade Writing class and was very happy. Today they had finished learning how to write all of the letters of the alphabet in script. Now I'll be able to write to Santa Claus in cur…curs…whatever this fancy writing is called.
"Hey Tanner, what are you so happy about?" Butch Davidson was the class bully. When Michelle told Stephanie and D.J. about how much he teased her, they always said that he liked her and didn't know how to show it. Michelle really didn't think so.
"I was thinking about how impressed Santa Claus will be when he reads my letter in cursive." She was proud of herself for remembering the name of this handwriting, and of also using the word "impressive". She wasn't exactly sure what "impressive" meant, but her dad always used it when she brought home a good grade or a school project. Which meant it had to be something good.
Butch laughed. "You still believe in that Santa Claus junk?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?
This caused Butch to laugh even harder. He turned to some of the other boys in the class and said, very loudly, "Get a load of this! Michelle Tanner still believes in Santa Claus!"
Then, much of the class started laughing at Michelle and calling her a baby. She felt her cheeks flush, and tears threatened to follow. "Santa IS real! If it's not him, then who puts presents under the tree and eats the milk and cookies?"
"Your parents do. Duh. Oh, sure, I used to believe in Santa too. But then I found out that it was my dad in the big red suit every year, and my mom put the presents under the tree before I woke up."
"You're mean! And a liar!" Tears streamed down her face as she ran out of the room, her classmates' laughter drowning out her sobs. Her vision was so blurry that Michelle didn't even see the teacher until she bumped into her.
"Michelle, what's wrong?" Mrs. Applebaum knelt down so that she was eye to eye with her student. She had only left the room for five minutes to talk with another teacher. What could have possibly happened during that short time?
"N-nothing. Can I p-please go to the b-bathroom?" Michelle could hardly speak –her throat was hoarse from crying. Thankfully, Mrs. Applebaum just nodded, unsure of what else to do. Michelle ran around her and didn't stop running until she was safely inside a stall in the girl's bathroom. There, she cried until one of her best friends. Denise came in five minutes later to get her to come back to class.
"Yes, this is Mr. Tanner. Uh huh. Oh, I see. Thank you for letting me know. I will have a talk with her as soon as she comes home." Danny sighed as he hung up the phone.
"Who was that?" Jesse asked. Joey had begged him to try watching cartoons, so as a result he was now sprawled on the couch watching Rugrats. He had to admit – Tommy Pickles had spunk.
"Michelle's teacher. She said that one of the other students teased her about believing in Santa Claus and told her that he doesn't exist. Michelle then ran to the bathroom and wouldn't come out until Denise convinced her to."
Jesse groaned. "I'm sorry, Danny, but you knew it was going to happen eventually. Just be grateful she didn't find out the way I did."
I'm almost afraid to ask. However, his curiosity was stronger than his urge to ignore the comment. "And how did you find out?"
"Well, on Christmas Eve, when I was seven, I had gone downstairs late at night to get a drink of water. On my way to the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of Mommy making out with jolly old Saint Nick behind the couch." Jesse grimaced – the memory still gave him nightmares.
Joey chose just that moment to come in through the kitchen door, singing in a loud, low voice as he carried a bowl of popcorn. His song of choice was, of course, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." "Then I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus, underneath his beard so snowy white, oh what a laugh it would have been, if Daddy had only seen, Mommy kissing Santa Claus, last nighttttttttt!" As he held the last note, he did a little spin, then plopped down on the couch, popcorn bowl still in hand.
Jesse just stared at him and asked, "How do you do it?"
"Years of practice."
"Well, years of practicing eavesdropping with a glass put up against the door couldn't have hurt." Danny motioned to the empty glass in Joey's other hand. Ah, well – at least I know where Stephanie gets it.
"Yeah, well, even great comics make mistakes."
"You mean great Looney Toons." Jesse indicated Joey's Flintstone pajamas and Scooby Doo slippers.
"For your information, Scooby-Doo and the Flintstones are Hanna-Barbara cartoons. Duh."
Danny interrupted. "Hey, guys, can we get back to the matter at hand? Michelle's going to come home any minute with a lot of questions, and I don't know what to tell her."
"I think you should tell her that the kid was wrong," Joey answered. "My parents never told me the truth behind Santa Claus, and look how I turned out."
Danny watched in horror as Joey lied back on the couch and crossed his feet on the coffee table. He grabbed a handful of popcorn, and spilled half of it as she crammed it in his mouth. Danny couldn't help noticing that a grown man was in cartoon pajamas while watching a kids show. "I have to tell Michelle."