I know Santa is considered cute and beloved and adored. But I have come to the point where I actually think I hate him.
There is nothing magical or fun or fair about the fact that my daughter has given this fat bastard 10 years worth of credit for gifts that we’ve sought out, paid for, wrapped and put under the tree. She speaks his name with reverence, while mocking her father and I.
When my son was only 7 or 8 another mom spilled the beans. I was very unhappy about it at the time. He’d been on a playdate and when I picked him up at the door she said, “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, I told B the truth about Santa.” I was dumb-founded. She told me her kid was scared of strange men entering the house at night. In retrospect, what a smart little boy.
I still really can’t comprehend that she took it upon herself to tell someone else’s kid, let alone mine, and ruin this sacrosanct legend. Although now, of course, I realize I should have tipped her in cash.
It seems like our daughter should have figured it out by now. How long can you possibly believe such a ridiculous story? I continually want to tell her the truth but don’t know how. In her defense, it probably was not smart to write the letter last year that said, “Tried to wake you up, but you’re a heavy sleeper. Love, Santa.” I am such a dumbass.
Do we pass on our customs and traditions to her husband, who will have to pretend he tried to wake her Christmas Eve and leave messages around the house? Will she be leaving cookies and milk out when she’s 29? Listening for sleigh bells at 36?
Will I have to sneak over to her house and leave gifts for both her AND the grandchildren, gritting my teeth at the magic and wonder of the season for decades to come?
Yesterday R. told me that she made another little girl cry during a conversation about the real Santa being at a place called Storybookland. She told the girl that it’s got to be a fake Santa because the real guy is at the North Pole preparing for the big night, that he only comes out on Christmas Eve. Duh!
She could hear the other girl whispering afterwards: “I know he’s real, I know he’s real!”
Sometimes I’m so happy that my own kids are mine and I didn’t get someone else’s.
After this conversation, I asked her: “If Santa really wasn’t real, would you want to know?” Her reply: “Not really.”
4 responses so far ↓
Jaime // November 28, 2007 at 8:42 am
Call me an imagination-wrecker, but I couldn’t agree more.
Aimee // November 28, 2007 at 10:17 am
LOL! T JUST figured it out. She tried to tell me that she had known for sometime but that doesn’t explain why she asked if raindeer actually like oatmeal, or do we just put it out for fun?! That was last year. And yes, when we talked about it this year I made sure she understood COMPLETELY that I was the one who had given her the xmas of her dreams for the last 10 years = ME AND ONLY ME – (her father gets no credit, either!). I thought that since she knows I would tone it down this year, but it turns out, now that she knows its me, there is even more pressure to wow her!
Jay // November 28, 2007 at 2:01 pm
bah .. with kids using computers and accessing the internet younger and younger … it’s only a matter of time before she stumbles upon the truth
… as as matter of fact you’re probably bursting some child’s bubble right now .. you need to set up one of those paypal donation boxes for those kids’ parents to leave tip$
Jenn // November 29, 2007 at 11:28 pm
Ha ha I always thought my mom was a tightwad because she always got me the lower end gifts (uhh the crappy ones like PJ’s and socks!)..Santa was the one who rocked! Now that I have kids I hate that Santa takes the credit for me standing in line…in the freezing rain…for 7 hours waiting for the store to open to grab the latest and the greatest *LOL* but I wouldn’t have it any other way