Santa Claus is Dead

“Mommy, is Santa Claus real? Really, mommy, tell me the truth.”

I had always promised myself that when my child REALLY asked, he would get just that, the truth. Because that is one of my core values, honesty. Almost to a fault, really. So when he asked while we were doing cuddle time with his 2 year old brother, I quieted him, because we’re supposed to be quiet during cuddle time, and when we went downstairs to read Harry Potter, I texted his dad to be sure it was okay that I told him the truth. It was. “Did someone tell you there wasn’t a Santa Claus?”

“Yes”
“Do you think there is a Santa Claus?”
“I do, but I want to make sure I’m right.”
“Well, logically, do you think there’s a Santa Claus. Does it make sense?”
“Well, no. I mean, magic is make-believe. And how does one man get all those presents to everyone?”
“If he doesn’t get the presents, who does?’
“Your parents.”
“So do you believe in Santa Claus”
“I do, but I want to know if I’m right”


A few more rounds of this. I asked him if he really wanted to know the truth and he insisted he did. I told him it might make him a little sad. Then I told him that there isn’t a Santa. Guys, he took it much better than I did, and I was 2 years older when I found out! “So you’ve been buying all my presents?” Mind you, I didn’t exactly get the thank you I hoped for, but I did get a few requests, one of which was for some frogs—which I promptly turned down. The boy can’t take care of plants, and I already have a puppy to try to support. I AM NOT KEEPING FROGS ALIVE TOO!
We then talked about his responsibility not to ruin the fun for everyone else. I asked him why the little boy who told him had told him. He was being mean. Of. Course. And he would NOT do that to some other kid. He WOULD NOT. He would let them enjoy the fun until they figured it out for themselves.
And then we read a chapter in our first Harry Potter book. They grow up too fast, guys!

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