No doubt some find it Scrooge-like, but I am proof-positive that Charlie can grow up loving Christmas even if he is a bit cynical about the man in red. Don't worry -- I assure you that we are working on making sure he keeps his mouth shut better than his Mama did back in 1984 (a very belated apology to Ms. Jenks' second grade class -- though I have to say I still struggle with the idea of "good lies and bad lies").
Needless to say, Jason and I haven't put a bunch of effort into Santa in our house and up until this year it's always been a non-issue. Each year we watch the Claymation movie, we hang him on our tree and watch glitter float around him in the snow globe then we go sit on his lap for a seasonal photo-op.
But this year Charlie is starting to ask questions -- primarily about why so many adults are so concerned with what he is going to ask this stranger to bring him on Christmas. Having vowed not to lie to him, I am trying to tread lightly and regularly falling back on my mother's privilege of just changing the subject and/or turning the question into a "well, what do you think?" moment...
But let's face it, he's a smart kid who knows his mother well -- not to mention the fact that he seems to have a very similar desire to believe in realistic fairy tales. The kid is totally on to me, but still likes to play along. Our 2013 visit to Santa left little doubt to that.
After a number of skeptical conversations through the day on Tuesday, Charlie dressed himself in his "most handsome" clothes, gamely jumped up on Santa's lap, held his smile while we waited for the dogs to look in the general direction of the camera, then requested the one gift he new would be a sure thing... a surprise.
I really love this kid.
