From the desk of Alice - The Warmer Months: When Thoughts Turn to Santa

My Dearest friends,
First off, I would like to explain that I like Santa. A lot. For the last 15 months I have been studying all research material that I can obtain. I have been learning songs and practicing saying "ho ho ho". I feel that when the time comes, when I am finally three, I will be ready to meet him again. Last December I met the jolly old elf but I cried when I saw him, in spite of myself. I am embarrassed to admit that I froze up before I was able to execute my plan. I shall not fail next time. I've carefully related to The Giants how next time I will not be shy and I will tell him what I want for Christmas. I lowered my voice into a conspiratory whisper and explained "... and then I will go through his pockets". They laughed. They clearly do not think that I am capable of carrying out my plan. I assure you that I am.

I was dazzled by all the red

I have been keeping well enough of late. I have been taking The Giants and Isaac for regular walks and park visits. They tend to keep up if you turn to them and deadpan "walk with me". Since my last missive I have obtained a three wheeled vehicle that I can power with my mind (and legs). I can get it up to a great speed, but I've been unable to locate the place where the wings should be attached. I was quite annoyed the other day when The Fuzzy Giant was pushing it using the Giant handle whilst lifting the front wheel. I explicitly told him not to do that, but beyond all reason he ignored me. Then the front wheel and steering assembly fell apart. I was quite upset. This is what happens when your Giants have not been properly trained in the art of tricycle assembly.

Out for an evening ride

The training of my assistant Isaac continues, but it has been slower than I expected it to be. He spends most of his time sitting - or lying - around. At this point I don't know who will assemble the device for my ultimate plan. Clearly I cannot enlist The Fuzzy Giant if I want my plan to succeed. I believe that The Giants are also grooming him for a task to be completed in a low gravity environment. They regularly place him in a "jolly jumper" and "float" objects in front of him and encourage him to grab them. I can only assume that this work is to be done on a clandestine space station. One benefit of this low G training is that I can demonstrate a "piggy back" ride to Isaac. I expect him to carry me around this way once he can walk.

We have recently gone on several longer car trips. The latest one was to London. Being an inexperienced traveler, Isaac became distressed at points. While The Giants' story telling and singing abilities are passable, they cannot compete with my aptitude for oration and crooning. It was upon me to calm him down. I must say that I did an admirable job.

Of late I have taken up swimming. Alas, not in time to get the most out of the summer months, but enough that I can wear a flotation ring device and spin or move from one side of a pool to another. I expect that by reading about swimming over the winter months I will be able to swim great lengths and to great depths. The Fuzzy Giant was tutoring me before. Apparently saying "blub blub blub" is of key importance.

One drawback from spending so much time with The Giants is that I find it challenging to expand my vocabulary and phraseology. In order to combat this I have taken to borrowing reading material from the local library. This has been particularly enlightening because I've learned phrases that can be used in everyday conversation like:

• Run for your life!
• A corn on the cob, a very nice lunch.
• You almost got me killed!
• A Gruffalo? What's a Gruffalo?

The Giants do not seem to appreciate how useful these phrases are. They rarely if ever add them into their conversations with family, friends and neighbours. I have been trying to pick up their slack by contributing them myself.

One thing that I have observed with respect to The Giants is how often they pray to the household god of Independent Preschoolers - Sweet Bajeebus. Often when I have to be particularly firm with The Giants, especially the Fuzzy Giant, I hear him mutter a quiet prayer to "Sweet Bajeebus". I surmise that means that I am doing well in my training of them. Some days it becomes bothersome to hear it for the umpteenth time while that vein pulses on his bright red face. Not that I mean to criticize anyone in their religious practices though.

I must draw this letter to a close now as I continue my study of an enlightening manuscript called Tabby McTat by a Julia Donaldson.

Lovingly yours,
Alice