When I Grow Up...I Want To Be Santa Claus

Spoiler Alert: Contains age-sensitive information on Santa Claus.

“Some kids at school say Santa isn't real”.

“Those little *bleeps*!”

The Older Son (formerly known as “The Tall One”, then “The Taller One”) was about eight years old when

he said the first line.  I thought, but fortunately did not say, the second line. Of course when I say "bleeps" I mean "Grinches".

Some parents don’t give their kids a chance to believe in Santa.  Let me just say, with all due respect, you suck.  Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to lie to your kids.  Because Santa Claus would be the least of the lies you’ll tell your kids over the years and you know it.  You don’t give your kids (or yourself, for that matter) the chance to have the fun that Santa is at Christmastime.  Worse yet, your precious little know-it-all ruins it for the rest of us.  And that takes us back to where we started…”Some kids at school say Santa isn’t real”.

Kids grow up fast.  Too…dang…fast.  (I hate that “Cat’s in the Cradle” song, don’t you?) You can’t hang on to so many treasures (small and great) of their childhood for very long.  I was determined to keep the fun and wonder of Santa for at least one more year.  I needed to give him proof.  Showing him the fat guy in the red suit at the mall wouldn’t do it (we all know that those guys are just Santa’s little helper anyway…or is that The Simpsons’ dog?).  I needed him to see a fat guy in a red suit on Christmas morning.  I would be the proof.  I would be that fat guy!

I had about a month to plan this out.  The level of details of my plan made Ocean’s Eleven look like setting

up a yard sale by comparison.  We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at The In-Laws.  Every member of the family had a role in this elaborate scheme. I sketched out a drawing of each level of their home.   It was like Shooter drawing up the “picket fence” play in Hoosiers. Timing and strict adherence to the plan was critical for success.  I made a list and checked it twice, reviewing the staging with each of my co-collaborators.

So in the wee hours of that December 25^th, I rolled out of bed having barely slept.  I went to the basement where I had stored my red suit, hat and boots.  I went back up to the living room and sat by the tree and waited.  As The Boys woke up, The Middle Sister-in-Law was to keep them upstairs while everyone else took their places.  As I heard them start down the stairs, I dashed from the living room, passed The Boys on the stairs, through the foyer and into the den.  They saw Santa…or at least a fat guy in a red suit.

The Boys went into the living room and saw where Santa had been and then dashed into the den to try to find him.  By then, I had double backed down to the basement.  The Mother-in-Law and The Wife were in the den where they told The Boys they had just seen Santa…up the chimney he rose.

By that time, I had shed my Santa suit and gone to the front yard where I joined The Younger-Sister-in-Law, The Brother-in-Law and The Father-in-Law.  We called out to The Boys to come see as Santa and his sleigh had just taken flight from the roof!  They just missed seeing the reindeer and sleigh drive out of sight, but we did have a picture to show them later (a picture which I had taken the night before and photo-shopped in Santa and his sleigh).

Months later, as The Older Son and I were driving to a football game I told him the truth about Santa.  He replied, “I knew Santa couldn't be real, but, Dad, we saw him!” I then got to share the story of last year’s Christmas and St. Nick’s visit.  While I didn't get to see the look on The Boys’ faces when they saw Santa that morning, I did get to see his eyes light up and pay me the great compliment of “that’s pretty cool, dad”. 

As must happen, another cherished part of childhood fell to the wayside.  It wasn't the first one and won’t be the last.  It’s part of watching your kids grow up and growing up is a necessity of, well…growing up.  Santa went out in a way that, even after eleven years later, The Boys and our whole family will always remember.  I hope this will be a story The Boys can tell their kids about what their grandpa, a jolly old elf, did one time at Christmas.