Santa's Beard

Look at this picture-as if! I don't what Buzz's views are on Father Christmas and his impossible sleigh but I do know that Buzz holds the record for spending time in a vehicle outside his spacecraft-five and a half hours!

To continue.
After the parents had disappeared back into the tent-grotto together with my mince pie, I look around for something interesting to do. There aren't so many people in the market square now-not since the Christmas lights fused anyway. Some stalls have even packed up and gone. The candle stall is all right though. There's lots of light there, in fact they are the only people smiling at me. Even Santa had to get out his purse and buy a few candles to light the way to his tent-grotto which is flapping about a bit in the wind now. It's cold and I begin to wonder how long it takes to exchange action-man for something educational. I also begin to wonder if the the billowing tent-grotto will fall down on top of them. Just to be sure, I decide to do That Nice Mr Parkin a favour-even though he doesn't deserve it. I tighten up the ropes holding the tent in place. It's hard work but by the time I'v e finished they are good and straight. Not that he'll thank me of course, he's not that nice.

'We've found you something much better dear,' says mum coming back.
She is clutching a very small, blue toy rabbit.
'Ooh! Where did that come from?' says dad, tripping over the nearest tent rope.
Suddenly I have a bad feeling about the tent ropes. 'I'd like to go home now,' I say, pulling at dad's hand.
PING! SWOOSH! FLUMP!
The tent-grotto flies off into the cold night sky like a large clumsy bird. And now we can all see Father Christmas and his elf sitting down together, with their legs up on chairs. They are drinking something steamy from large mugs.
'Look! he's taken his beard off!' I say.
And then I see it, whizzing through the air, above our heads. Santa jumps up, spilling his hot drink, so that he leaps about quite alot while pointing at his flying beard. Now he looks very cross and he's coming towards us. Something's up, I can tell. Mum and dad look at each other and then at me.
'Let's get a taxi,' says dad and he's already running across the square, 'there's one!'