The Joy of the Holidays

I was six when I figured out the whole Santa thing – tragic I know. I was a very rational kid and deduced that since it took my family 3 hours to fly to Florida (direct) there was no way one man was making his way around the world pit-stopping and shimming down a chimney at every kid’s house. And didn’t his reindeer get tired? And what happens if there isn’t a chimney? What if one sibling was on the good list, and one wasn’t – did he still stop? That’s not very efficient. And I know he has a bit of a weight problem, but did he really have room to eat a billion cookies? And so, I stopped believing. I also was a total know-it-all and decided my entire class needed to be let in on the Santa scam, and so I told them – ALL OF THEM. Kids cried, their spirits were crushed and a phone call home was made. Yep, I was THAT kid that ruined it for everyone.

So when my six year old came home last week and told me his friend told him Santa wasn’t real, panic set in. I paused and very calmly, in my best mom voice, asked him “what do you think?” A look of deep thought settled on his face…

This is it, I thought, the moment he stops believing. I’ll blink and he’ll be getting tattooed and moving out. His childhood is over. I’ve failed as a mom…

“He’s probably just made up, like zombies. But I’ll keep it a secret for my sister. I want her to still believe and get excited about Santa.” 

I smiled and knew he had figured it out – maybe the big guy in red isn’t real, but keeping the magic alive for someone else you love is truly the joy of the holidays. (I also told him not to tell anyone in his class!)