The Real Santa

So today I heard someone complain about how it is “ridiculous” that anyone takes their kid to visit Santa Claus. Why would you “lie to your child?” Again it was in passing and I’m not completely sure I know exactly what they were talking about… but I’ll assume from context clues that she was referring to the absurd rumors that Santa Claus is not real. And by absurd rumors I mean, of course Santa Clause in real.

I don’t mean in cute ending in all of the typical Christmas movie way in which we say of course Santa is real… in our hearts if we all just believe. No, I mean, I don’t have enough patience to fight a herd of people willing to trample another human on Black Friday to save $8 on a Westinghouse LED TV. I do not have enough money to pay $175 for a $13 Fingerling Monkey because someone bought the last three cases of them and is now jacking up the price on the nearest Facebook Tag Sale Site. Listen I love my kids… I love them immeasurably, but I don’t love them enough to hide a stupid elf all over my house everyday. I have enough butts to clean up after around here… I don’t need to be responsible for anymore.

Nope… not me… not now… not never. I am not Santa… and the reason I am not Santa is because the only person who is Santa is the real Santa. Now listen I’m not 100% sold on the “Elves make all the toys in their workshop” stuff… even Santa is smart enough to know Indonesia trades for pennies on the dollar snd he can get way more for his buck by outsourcing at least some of his toy making. It doesn’t take Wall Street Journal reporter to know you don’t keep a small mom and pop company thriving for thousands of years by making poor business decisions.

I very much enjoy watching my older son interact with Santa now, talk about him… call me out when I threaten to email Santa because he isn’t listen, “Yea, call him.” But there is something about watching a child meet Santa for the first time. The raw emotions are just so authentic. You either get the screaming and crying or the child that says “I’m going to pull off your beard you imposter… you’re not the real Santa… you smell of beef and cheese!”

Then there is Oliver… little ole Ollie-burger… just sat there and sized him up… “sure Santa you want to hold me for a picture? No problem, but just know I’m the one who knows if you’ve been naughty or nice…” and I guess, in the end, just give the magic of Christmas a chance before deciding if Santa is real or not… and in this case… I know Oliver knows he’s real… besides would anyone else stand outside in 25degree weather handing out candy canes if he wasn’t the real Santa? I think not.

PS: Slick move by Jax trying to bribe Jolly Old Saint Nick with his special Taggie. Listen buddy… at this point it’s going to take a lot more than a taggie to change his mind… but nice effort.

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