Saturday, December 6, 2014

It is Pronounced Santa Claus. Not Santy!!

By now you all know that I had two cousins. Brothers. Who were named after the Christmas drink Tom & Jerry. We were the three youngest in the family and actually they were my 2nd cousins. All the rest of our cousins were considerably older than us. My mom was the youngest of seven children which is the reason for the extreme age difference. 

Over the years Tom, Jerry and I became more like brothers and sister. We all went to high school together. We all hung out together outside of the family parties. And eventually my husband and Jerry became great friends. 


Despite the fact that we were cousins we were always called "aunt and uncles by our children. Over the years the original Rochte family split into new family groups as all families do. Like the branches of a family tree spread in different directions. But for some reason, Tom, Jerry, and I stayed together even though we descended from two different branches.

Now both Tom and Jerry have passed away and I miss them both very much.

However, I do remember one particular Christmas Eve party at my Aunt Maire's house when I wished both of them would have never been born!! And it involved Santa Claus!!

Tom and Jerry had been in trouble with the Aunts ever since they opened their presents. I, as usual, was the perfect little angel -- kissing up to the Aunts every chance I got. I knew how to play the game. 

In those days the Aunts had huge dining room tables. A Florida condo would fit in the space those tables took up. My aunts always had tablecloths on those tables. It was a great place to beat up a cousin without getting caught. 

Somehow on that Christmas Eve the Aunts figured out I was missing in action. And they rescued me. 

This is what happened: 
Tom and Jerry got in a lot of trouble with the Aunts.
The Aunts took their new Christmas toys away and hid them. 
When my cousins wanted to know what happened to their toys, the Aunts told them Santa Claus took them away. 

Unfortunately for me the Aunts didn't say Santa Claus. They said Santy. 
Santy  sounds like Sandy (my name) and that gave my cousins a really good excuse to beat the snot out of me underneath Aunt Maire's dining room table.

Back in those days many people referred to Santa Claus as Santy. A lot of time it sounded like Sanny without the T. I can remember hearing "Sanny Claus. To this day I don't know why. I haven't heard the term in years. I might not even be aware of the pronunciation if it were not for the life-threatening situation that I was in at the time.


 

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