It's the Most Difficult-to-Explain Time of the Year

There was some discussion about Christmas traditions in our Oakton cul-de-sac recently. I learned one neighbor tells her children (as we do) that all of the gifts they receive are from Santa. While the family who lives next door to her tells their kids all of the presents under the tree are from Mom and Dad and only one special gift for each child comes from Santa. It seems we all leave out treats for the-guy-who-does-not-exist-yet-gets-all-the-credit, yet some of us provide milk and cookies (“his favorite”), while others opt for healthier snacks like apples or oranges (“he’s trying to eat better”). And some parents plan ahead well enough to wrap the Santa gifts in different wrapping paper, while we use the same paper as Santa and hope that our daughter, in a fit of Christmas glee, does not notice. (So far, so good. Looks like it'll be a state school for her.) 

During this discourse my neighbor asked, “Don’t you think it’s funny that all these kids in the neighborhood play together and talk all the time, yet none of these discrepancies in how Santa operates and what he likes ever seem to emerge?”

Which did make me wonder. Do the children not discuss this amongst themselves? Are they so overwhelmed by all the new toys and the sugar highs they just cannot focus?

I’m guessing they are simply willing to suspend disbelief and not overthink any of these differences because they are so caught up in the magic of the season they do not need to analyze the “whys” and the “hows” and can therefore just enjoy it.

Either that, or our children are complete dolts.

It gets harder every year. I know it’s fun for them to believe in Santa, but I get increasingly uncomfortable perpetuating the myth. As with any lie, it seems to require many more lies to explain it away.

Just before Christmas, as I was driving my daughter to school, she spotted a Toys for Tots sign in front of a local bank that serves as a collection site for the charity and asked me what it meant. I happily launched into an explanation about the organization collecting new toys for children whose parents may not have means to purchase Christmas presents, excited to provide a teachable moment on the importance of giving. Of course, halfway through my enthusiastic sermon I realized the conclusion she would reach based on the information I provided was Santa is biased against those with fewer resources.

In that split second, I realized there was a cupcake store across the street, so mid-sentence, I offered to buy her a cupcake which made her immediately forget the Toys for Tots discussion.

I may be a bit of cynic, but I’m now a firm believer in Christmas miracles.