Kyle and I do not push Santa. I don't know why we decided that. I like to think maybe we don't feel right about lying to our kids. That sounds slightly noble right? I think the truth is probably that I don't remember a Christmas far enough back to where Santa would have been the man. I don't remember thinking Santa was coming or spying on me. My earliest Christmas memory is of staying awake until midnight. That's when Santa was supposed to come, but the presents were already all under the tree. The tree was a sight. No green, it was a rod in the middle and tinsel (possibly pink?) wrapped on wire. Think Lady Gaga's dress where she held the star in her hand. That dress is my earliest Christmas memory. Oh what fun, right?
So, at Christmas we talk about presents and about Jesus, but leave the fat guy out of the equation.
Dunno how exactly they came to believe in Santa... probably everyone around us. I think my Dad secretly whispered all about sugarplum fairies and flying reindeer. I'm not anti Santa... just not the biggest pusher of fantasies. I wonder if we'll tell them about the tooth fairy...?
Recently we were walking through Walmart. A sweet old guy was just begging to be recognized. His white beard and red sweater screamed purveyor of presents and consumer of cookies. Caleb said, "Hi Santa!" He was pretty excited.
I am not sure how they came to believe in Jolly Old Saint Nick, but there it is. My kids are suckers.
And you know what?
I think it's pretty great.
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