I needed him to eat his dinner, without watching a screen.
So, a story it was.
Ordinarily, the story revolved around a crafty squirrel harangued by the neighborhood cat.
But it was December, and the Christmas tree was glowing in all its new-ish glory.
So, a Christmas story it had to be.
"It was Christmas day at the Cratchits...and Mr and Mrs Cratchit were bustling around the house getting things in order before dinner."
"What's a Cratchit?"
"It's a last name. Like you are a Ghosh. This story is about how the Cratchit family celebrated Christmas Day, although they did not have much money."
"What were their names?"
"Dad - Bob Cratchit, Mom - just Mom Cratchit, two boys and two daughters. The oldest son - let's say Harry..."
"I know! Second Sally, third Milly, and last Jerry!"
"We can go with Sally and Milly if you like, but the youngest has to be Tiny Tim. No changing Tiny Tim. Tiniest of the lot. He would walk around on crutches."
"They were too poor to afford new clothes and gifts for everyone, and the meal was meagre."
"But they had some money, right? They bought candy and balloons for everybody!"
So, I'm not sure this is what Dickens had in mind....but let's go with this, those tiny jaws are making short shrift.
"That's right, they had just enough money to buy balloons. Some candy in a bowl on the table."
"Mom Cratchit had worked all morning on a decent Christmas dinner - mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and chicken soup."
"No, no, they had turkey too! And bread, and cake. With pink lemonade."
"Are you sure they had turkey? Remember they didn't have a lot of money for a sumptuous Christmas dinner."
"Tiny Tim wrote to Santa, and Santa felt bad for the poor kid. So he got them all a big Christmas meal, and candy and balloons, and Poppits for the Cratchit kids."
So, a happy well-fed Cratchits' Christmas it ended up being, even as Dickens turned in his grave at the notion of Poppits in A Christmas Carol.
