Youngster's Santa letter is work of genius

The other day my 4-year-old son, Braden, was watching some Christmas television show in which one of the characters wrote a letter to Santa Claus. Not previously knowing that was something he could do, Braden asked me for some paper and a pencil, as he too wanted to write a letter to the big guy in the North Pole.
I’m not going to be one of those parents who brags his 4-year-old can already read and write, because I’d be lying. My kid knows his letters most of the time, he can spell his name some of the time, and once in awhile he can even write it, but that’s it.
I’d love it if he could read and write, but he’s already light years ahead of where I was at his age. Not only didn’t I know the alphabet at 4, but I didn’t know it when I was 5 and in kindergarten, a grade I claim I flunked but my mother correctly says I was held back in to grasp the basics.
Intrigued by Braden’s sudden decision to use writing skills I didn’t know he had, I watched in amusement as he put his pencil to paper and wrote to Santa. When he was done, his letter was literally filled with a mess of letters. I asked him what those letters said.
“It says ‘I want Optimus Prime,’” he replied to complete predictability, as the Transformer toy is something he’s wanted for a long time.
“What else does it say?” I asked.
“It also says, ‘I want everything that I want,’” he said.
It was brilliant, I thought. What more could he have written to make his point any clearer? Absolutely nothing.
“I want everything that I want.” He knows what he wants, and he knows Santa knows what he wants. Why bother listing everything if Santa has the ability to read kids’ minds, as he correctly believes?
His short, simple statement also made me jealous. As a person who writes for a living, I’ve learned many times the best writers are the ones that can say the most with as few words as possible. It’s a goal I strive for, but often believe I sometimes miss. Thankfully I’ve got an editor and multiple proofers who trim my work whenever they deem it should be done.
Jealous is probably an understatement, because I’m not sure I’ve ever written anything that says as much as he did with those six words. Granted, he didn’t technically write those words, but his translation of his jumbled letters is enough for me.
My long windedness might stem from those years in elementary school after flunking kindergarten in which I went from being the stupid kid in class to the teacher’s pet. When school and learning clicked for me, sometime in first grade, learning became something I greatly enjoyed.
This enjoyment inspired me to go above and beyond the scope of given assignments. When a teacher assigned us to write a story using all of our spelling words, I wrote 20-page novellas. These Magnum opuses were always humorous, as in addition to being the teacher’s pet I was usually the class clown, and many were epic, as I would continue them the next week with the next set of spelling words.
I don’t have any copies of these stories for specific examples, but I’m pretty sure I was long winded. The poor teachers, already overworked and underpaid, probably hated sludging through my dribble. I probably got top marks, not for quality material, but just for my effort. What teacher wouldn’t give a kid who spent three hours on a story the best grade possible, even if said story could be condensed to two paragraphs in a more readable form?
It wasn’t until Mrs. Voeltner taught me in my high school journalism class that less is usually better.
That’s a lesson I still struggle with, but one Braden has apparently learned at a very young age. I don’t want to brag, but maybe he is a genius.