"Okay," Joe said, clapping his hands. "If we want to catch Santa, we gotta get going. He's heading here tonight, and I don't wanna miss him."

Bob and I bobbed our heads up and down in response. But I also said, "We gotta get a really large net, since he's so fat."

"Right," Joe said. "Good thinking, Sam."

"And we should lure him with cookies," Bob added. "And milk--nah, hot chocolate. I'm sure the dude likes that way better." He patted his stomach. "Ya know what I mean, guys?"

"Yep," Joe said. "Anyway, we should put the cookies and hot chocolate in the fireplace. Then we can set a net underneath them, so when he comes down and starts to eat his cookies and hot chocolate, the net will--SNAP--get him trapped. Then we can ask him some questions. SAM!"

"Y-yes, sir!" I shouted, a bit too loudly. I was spacing out.

Bob giggled.

Joe said, "I want you to be in charge of writing down the questions in a notepad. And make them GOOD questions," he added, narrowing his eyes. "We don't want to ask Santa dumb things, like 'Do you like waffles?'"

"Wait, does he?" I asked.

"Not the point!" Joe exclaimed, and I straightened up. "Ask him stuff about the workshop. The North Pole. Ms. Claus. The elves. How he can possibly get around the world in one day. His reindeer. Rudolph. Understand?"

"Yeah," I said.

"BOB!" Joe said.

It was Bob's turn to sputter out, "Wait wh-what?" And my turn to laugh.

"I want you to be in charge of the net," Joe explained. "Make sure it will snap up the moment Santa lands on it. That sort of thing."

Bob nodded, but asked, "Sir, what will YOU be doing?"

"I," said Joe, straightening his polka dot tir that he thought made him look older although he is only eight, "will be making the cookies and hot chocolate. Now, run along. Go make your stuff."

I sat down on the couch with my notepad and wrote down:

What dos Ms. Claus look lik?

What is her personallyty lik?

Ar yoor elvs nic?

What ar ther nams?

Joe snatched it up and made some spelling corrections, then wrote down some of his own questions. "You are dismissed," he said. "You may go to bed. And remember to meet us here at midnight. When the clock is at twelve. Remember that? Twelve."

"I know," I said. "I'm not a baby."

"But you are six," Joe reminded me.

"Bob's seven," I said.

Joe sighed. "Just go."

In bed, I admit, I dozed off a few times, but managed to stay awake until midnight. Then I crept down the stairs and found Bob and Joe already down there, Joe looking stern and Bob grinning.

"You are late, Sam," Joe whispered.

Panic washed over me. "Is Santa here yet?"

"Nope," Joe said, a rare smile creeping into his face. "But listen. I hear him on the roof."

Silence. Then the clip clop of reindeer hooves, and a swish as someone went down the chimney.

Just before the scream came, was a voice. "Oh, ho, ho, ho! Cookies and hot chocolate!"

Then the net snapped and Santa let out a cry.

Joe peered into the fireplace. "Hi, Santa," he said. "We have some questions for you."

"I have to go," Santa said. "Or else all the children won't get their presents."

"Too bad," Joe replied. "Sam, the questions."

I handed him the notepad. Joe cleared his throat. "What does Ms. Claus look like?"

"White hair, wrinkly skin," Santa said. "Please can I go?"

"Her personality?"

"Um... Kind, I suppose. Sweet."

"Are your elves nice too?"

"Yep."

"Who's your favorite?"

"I don't chose favorites."

"What are their names?"

"Can't name them all. Too many. I already have to keep track of the children... Not the elves, too. May I go please?"

"What's the North Pole like?"

"Cold. White. Endless, it seems like."

"What did you get us for Christmas?"

"Well, coal, if you don't let me go. Please, children."

"One last question."

"Go on."

"Can we talk to you again next Christmas?"

Santa smiled, his cheeks rosy, like in the book 'The Night Before Christmas'. "Maybe, if you stay awake. But you should be in bed, you know."

I helped him get out of his net, and then gave him a big hug. "Thank you, Santa," I said. "I thought you'd be angry."

"Of course not," Santa said, hugging me back. "Now, run along to bed. In the morning, you will see what you got for Christmas."

I ran upstairs and listened as the reindeer's hooves clamped on the roof and then took off into the sky. That night, I had dreams of sugarplums dancing in my head until the next morning, when I woke up. In my stocking were goodies and a note from Santa.

It said,

Dear Sam,

So glad I could see you last night. I got presents to all the children after all. I hope you have a merry Christmas and enjoy your presents.

Ho ho ho,

Santa Claus