In this season of elves and flying reindeer and the fat man in a red suit that magically comes down the chimney, I have to admit that I’m a little worried about her lack of wonderment.
If you were to ask her about Christmas and Santa Claus her response would be “Yay! Presents!” Pretty typical of any four year old but I guess I was hoping for more visions of sugarplums dancing and less finding the switch on the dancing Elmo. Kids need magic and fairy tales. And I need something to hold over her head for at least one month out of the year.
“Don’t forget, Santa knows when you're being good and when you're doing something naughty,” I tell her after she’s poked her little sister for the 20th time that half hour.
She nods thoughtfully, and then she pokes her sister again.
Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to take her to see Santa this weekend at the mall. The weekend before Christmas. Where we’ll probably have to stand in line for 45 minutes. I am spectacular at planning ahead, I’ll tell you.
The ironic thing is, before we had kids my husband and I weren’t sure if we wanted to tell our one-day kids about Santa. We’re straight shooters, my husband and me. But sometimes a little drop of white lie must fall and this is one of those lies. I mean, deceptions. I mean... I’m doing this for my kids! Santa is good for them! Right?
Did you perpetrate the Santa