Debunking the Santa Myth (Or How My Parents Lied to Me)

The jig is up. We're busted, man. The cat's out of the bag. That's all folks! We have been called out for the fraud that we are. No, we haven't been outed or turned into the police. Instead, we have officially debunked the Santa myth in my house. First off to all those who are annoyed by early Christmas decorations, music, and references (and rightly so), I apologize that I am encroaching on the Christmas topic before Thanksgiving has been put to bed in all it's turkey goodness. But kids are already talking about Christmas, what they want -which gets more expensive and hard to come by each year (btw, has anyone found a Wii???)- and by extenstion how those wonderful Christmas gifts get to be under the tree on Christmas morn.

I have known parents, okay only one and I really couldn't stand this girl for a variety of other reasons, who have decided that they aren't going to "lie" to their children by telling them there is a Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy or Freedom and Democracy in this fair land. Oh yeah and no Barbie dolls, they're just another lie. No one can have boobs that big and perky. But for me, I have such fond memories of Christmas and how believing in Santa inspired a feeling of hope, magic and wonder as a child. Let's not forget that Baby Jesus is also an important component of this celebration. So there was no question that when I had children, the Santa tradition would be carried out until inquiring minds began to poke holes in the theory and looming doubts unfolded.

I think I officially found out about Santa not really existing when I was about 10 or so. I think I probably knew before that, but just kept the lie going for the benefit of my younger siblings and so as not to disappoint my parents who obviously derived great joy from shopping all over kindgom come for the pricey items we wanted. But the lie was truly exposed in my house the year we got 10 speed bikes. My sister and I had put them on our Dear Santa list because we just had to have the curly handlebars and hand brakes. I happened to answer the phone a week or so about Christmas and the caller said he was calling from Sears. When I told my mom that Sears was on the phone, she let it slip that "Oh, it must be about the bikes." Yikes! She had worked hard all these years to protect the myth only to have it debunked in one simple observation. Insert foot here, mom! To tell the truth I wanted to keep believing. It was much more fun that way. But as all children grow up into adults (well theoretically at least), the Santa myth ends and the only way we can keep it going is by subjecting our progeny to the tradition.

So, I figured last year that Santa's days were numbered in my house, but hoped that my daughter would hold onto the idea a little longer. This officially ended this past weekend when my daughter wanted a heart to heart talk. I wasn't sure what it could be about as it is usually about what some boy said or whose not her friend this week. But instead she asked me point blank "Is there really a Santa, or do you buy the gifts for me?"

How do you respond to a nine year old asking this question?

My first reaction was to say "If you believe in Santa, then he is real?" But the pragmatic side of my daughter wasn't buying that for one second. "Come on Mom. Tell me the truth. Is there a Santa or do you buy the gifts?" To which broken record style I countered back "If you believe in Santa, then he is real."

Eventually she begged me to tell the truth and to not lie to her with tears brimming in her eyes. I couldn't help but have Jack Nicholson "you can't handle the truth" moment. But I finally relented because she pleaded with me not to lie and so went on to explain "Well, there really isn't a fat guy in a red suit who comes to everyone's house on Christmas Eve to deliver presents. But the magic and spirit of Santa is very much real and parents help carry it out."

So the nosy side of my daughter asks "Where do you hide the gifts, then?" I told her I wasn't going to spill the beans on that one. I'm rather limited on hiding spaces. Then she said "Well I was beginning to think that he wasn't real. Because how can someone get presents to all the kids all over the world in just one night." Furthermore, the wheels turning in her head, she also stated that she thought the note that Santa left her last year looked like Daddy's handwriting. I told her most definitely Daddy had not written the letter (which technially was not a lie because I wrote it in all caps trying to disguise my handwriting). Then she asked who ate the cookies. I told her I didn't know (which technically was not a lie because I really can't remember).

So after our conversation she looked at me and said "I wasn't ready for the truth!" I opened my arms and held her there for a few moments. I told her that she can keep on believing in Santa because the magic is still there. Her whole world had been turned upside down and this probably meant there wasn't a Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny either.

Now I'm beginning to wonder when I am going to have debunk the stork myth of where babies come from.