when santa went crash

We have some sweet friends who have longed for a baby. Their prayers were answered a while back when they were asked to be foster parents to a darling little boy.

He is two year and a half years old.
He's a bit rambunctious.but no more so than any other active toddler.

On Christmas Day, they came over for Christmas visit, this little darling in tow.
 We had a lovely time.

We sipped mulled cider.

We opened gifts. 
We visited.
He chased the dogs and played with the toys we got him. At some point he got bored in those pursuits and set off to explore some uncharted (for him) areas. In one of them, he found a Santa that struck his fancy. When he ran in to show us what he'd found, my friend the foster mother gasped. 
We all startled.

She yelled someone"grab him!" I am not sure if she meant the Santa or the child.
I turned to see the Santa just as he made contact with the tile floor in the kitchen.

My friends the foster parents were horrified. The hub reassured them, and me, that he'd repaired things more broken than this Santa.
I told them that the Santa wasn't all that special and could easily be replaced. And it was true. Then.
But it's not true now. For as you see above and to the right, Santa is almost as good as new. As soon as my baby daughter's beau remembers to bring some fimo clay he had left over from a recent, initial  attempt at taxidermy, I think Santa will be better than ever.
For the Hub did a great job. And the Beau will surely help fill in the few remaining chips and chinks. And the Santa will be a reminder of good times and good friends and blessings of the season that include a darling little boy.