Say It Ain't So

I have a copy of Twas the Night Before Christmas that Bryon's mom gave me. It was Bryon's when he was a child, published 10 years before he was born. It has charming, vintage illustrations that make it my favorite version of the book.

In the past week or so I've worked it back into our nightly reading queue. The kids never tire of it and I'm sincerely hoping that one day I can have the whole poem memorized.

But last night, one page in, Sam stopped me and said, "I don't really think there's such a thing as Santa Claus."

Me, over zealously, "What? Are you kidding? What are you talking about? Of course, there's a Santa Claus."

"No. I think it's just you guys dressing up and giving us presents."

"Well, it's not. It's Santa."

"Why doesn't anybody ever see him then? And why is it that no one ever gets a lump of coal, even if they're bad?"

"Daddy got a lump of coal once. I know that for a fact." Sure, I gave it to him and it was made of licorice, but in this instance it counts. IT COUNTS.

"If I stayed up all night long would I finally see him?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so. Like the song says he knows when you are sleeping and he won't come until you're asleep."

"But how does he know?"

"He's watching all the time."

"All kids? All the time?" Clearly he's thrown off by the improbable logistics.

"Yes, Sam. All kids. All the time."

We didn't resolve anything. I don't think the conversation swayed him. But he's too young NOT to believe in Santa. He has to, for a few more years anyway. Give Jake a chance. Think about Abby.

And to me that's just one of those sweet, innocent beliefs a kid needs to hold onto for awhile. The magic and spirit and excitement and anticipation. Without that I'm not sure it's ever the same.