I’m sitting in bed listening to Lucky quietly snoring and enjoying a little peace and quiet. Last night, was very different from tonight. Last night, YaYa asked me about Santa in the most direct way possible. There was no way to get out of it gracefully without lying.
Before I answered, I warned him that he might be disappointed to loose this part of the Christmas magic. That should have been enough of an answer right there but he insisted that he wanted to know the truth. I stalled, making him ask one more time, which he did in with the same clarity.
At the moment he asked, he was so grown up. But the moment he received the answer, he was a little boy whose dreams had been destroyed. He cried. Then, as if to prove me wrong, he began challenging me with a whole other set of questions.
- Who ate the cookies?
- What about the carrots?
- Who put the chunks of crumbs in the milk?
- What about the tags on the presents?
- Tracking Santa online?
All of the elaborate measures that had grown over the years as BoBo and DD got more involved in creating the magic where on the line. YaYa was horrified to have it all be a lie.
I was horrified to have my son asking about Santa in the month of March — especially when my son gets so distraught that he is still awake at midnight. Before he finally fell off to sleep, YaYa asked if we could keep some of the traditions like baking the cookies just for the fun of it. Of course I agreed.