It’s about that elf thing and Santa Claus. Don’t get me wrong. I love Santa and elves. Fun, magical…..all that. However we do tell our kids eventually that Santa is not real. Sorry, but we do. Not trying to be a kill joy or anything. The first few years we get into it with them and leave cookies for Santa, etc. But soon enough they start asking questions and we answer those questions with the truth which ultimately rats out Santa. We still play along with a *wink-wink* just for the fun of it and we encourage them not to tell their friends because some parents wish to play along without the *wink-wink* and we will respect that.
Apparently this year there are a lot of “Elf on the Shelfs” represented in our eight year old’s class. We have one too. It’s a generic stuffed elf that our kids gave a hispanic twist to by naming it “El-Fano”. Our elf went through a very short lived phase of making messes with flour, hiding in places, leaving notes and candy. Sophie loved every second of it. But quickly our realist eight year old was on to the fact that I was involved with El-Fano’s actions and she rolled her eyes and figured she was too big to believe in that stuff. I was glad I could quit the elfin antics because really it was a pain in the butt.
Fast forward to an Awana Christmas party two years ago where Santa came and Sophie quickly spotted it was a parent leader in the Awana program…..and wanted nothing to do with sitting on fake Santa’s lap. Flat out refused. I encouraged her to participate and be a part of things and so she did on the outside. But on the inside?….oh that girl was so not sitting on Santa’s lap.
All this to say I was utterly confused last night as I tucked Miss Skeptical in bed and she starts bawling and saying, “Why can’t ya’ll t be like other parents and tell me that Santa is real and that his elves are real. I had to lie to my friend yesterday at school because she said you aren’t allowed to touch your elf but I told her that El-fano said I could touch him and that was a lieeeeeee because he really didn’t tell me that because he’s not reaaaaaallll” – tears streaming down her face.
I was at a loss as to what to say. She kept begging me to tell her that Santa was real. So I said, “Okay, I can tell you he’s real. He’s real, Sophie. Santa is this real man that is ten times bigger than the average household chimney but somehow he squeezes his red fat hiney down it and he leaves presents. And then he gets in his sleigh with reindeers that have magical wings, although no other reindeers have that power, and off he flies through the sky leaving presents for all the children in the world. And his elves help him.” I sort of felt like throwing up after that consider how it all just fell out of my mouth with such cynicism.
She starts laughing hysterically. And then she says, “But who eats the cookies that we leave by the fireplace?” I said, “Dad.” She said, “But how?” I took a pretend bite into my pretend cookie. She said, “No, I mean ya’ll always go to bed when we go to bed on Christmas Eve.” I whispered that we sneak back down and take a bite out of them. She gasped and said, ” You mean we make those cookies for nothing?!!! I am NOT making cookies this year!” And then she laughed again as if she was let into a special secret. We prayed and in our prayer we remembered that Jesus is real. He performs miracles that are amazing and he’s the only one that can do that. And it’s awesome to worship such an amazing Savior at Christmas.
Merry Christmas folks! I hope Santa’s good to you – *wink-wink.
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