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In my previous post I shared my awkward and disconcerting history
with Santa Claus. In case you missed it and don’t feel like scrolling down to
it or clicking the link, I was one of Kris Kringle’s most devoted acolytes until the fourth grade
when I found out it was all bumpkiss. From there, the post turned into a debate
about whether or not I would even go down the Santa road with my future kids or
just let them know right off the bat that the big guy in red ain’t real.
As I sit
here, an adult on a lunch break from his adult job, closely monitoring NORAD’s
Santa tracker, I think I have my answer. I know, I promised mounds of scientific
data based on intense psychological research performed on my cats, but I think I
found a shortcut and shortcuts are always worth taking. Another lesson for the
future kids.
Anyway,
my answer is “Yes, Internet, I will be telling my kids about Santa.”
I mean,
of course I am. Let me repeat, I’m a grown-ass man with no human children who’s
been following the Santa tracker all morning and getting mildly annoyed because
it doesn’t show Santa stopping at every single town in every single country. I
want my high tech fairy tale-tracking system to be 100% mythologically accurate
goddamnit!
One reason for my decision is that I
want to have my turn playing Santa. I want to sneak around, putting presents
under the tree, taking a few bites of some cookies and carrots, maybe leave a
candy cane floating in the toilet and some muddy boot prints from the chimney
to directly outside the kids’ room, shake the handle of the door angrily a few
times just to freak ‘em out. You know, all the classics.
So without question I’m going to
tell them that every Dec. 25, an immortal bearded guy drives around the world
in a sled being pulled by airborne reindeer, breaking and entering into every
single house/shelter and dispensing out toys or coal based on his own
perceptions of good and bad. I’m also going to tell them that yes, that same
unkillable individual does that all in one night and that he spends the rest of
the year watching every move that every single child on the planet makes.
Ohh, here’s
a thought: Instead of Elf on the Shelf, what about Sting Sees Everything? It’s
a small, blonde doll with spikey hair that lurks about the house while the song
“I’ll Be Watching You” plays on a continuous loop from Black Friday to
Christmas morning. New tradition, I’ll make millions.
Is it
so wrong for me to want my kids to get to experience all of the magic and unrelenting
yuletide terror that goes along with believing in Santa for as long as possible?
Before they either outgrow it on their own or get arrested on their 38th
birthday for punching out a mall Santa? I don’t think that’s so wrong at all.
Merry
Christmas, everyone. And now here’s a song that’s not about Christmas, but
makes me happy. Enjoy.
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