Tales From Around The Woodstove

The elevator door smoothly parted, and the man stepped out onto the third floor, three-year old son on his hip, flanked by his eight-year-old daughter to his right and his six-year-old daughter to his left. The nurse's station faced them, and the nurses behind the front desk, though busy, greeted them with a friendly "good morning”and a nod, joined by bright and cheerful smiles. One of the nurses walked from behind the desk and in front of the waiting man and children. "Good morning, Wells family," she said cheerfully. "Are you ready for Christmas?" she bubbled as her face scanned from the man and acknowledged each of the children. "How about you, Charlie?" she said as she ruffled the little boy's hair. "Yes! We saw Santa last night," he answered, as he struggled to get down from his father's arms. It was one thing, and he had welcomed it, for his father to carry him from the parking lot, protecting him from traffic, and the long trip up to the seventh floor. It was another matter altogether if someone was speaking to him and his father was holding onto him like he was some sort of baby or something! "You did? Well, that's great, Charlie!" the nurse said as she got down on her knees to speak eye to eye with the little boy. "Did you sit on his lap and tell him what you wanted for Christmas?" the nurse spouted cheerfully as she waited for the little boy's answer. "A new red fire truck… and a puppy!" the boy bubbled! "Well, that sounds just grand, Charlie!" the nurse answered as she slid along the floor in front of the little girl on the man's left.