Is It Okay To Tell Your Son That Santa’s A Lie?
FROM HIM: I know they’ll be some of you that think I might actually be the Grinch and I have come to steal Christmas from Edgar and I fully respect your opinion.
But I’m going to tell him that Santa is a lie from the off.
I find this lying in mass malarkey a very strange thing.
Just because everyone else is doing it doesn’t mean it’s right.
If I took another lie, completely at random, and chose to replace the Christmas lie with that one, let’s say – that moles are all knowing creatures that come up through the earth and bite your toes off if you’re naughty – and dedicated as much time to the cause as the average family does to the Santa lie, then you’d be calling the NSPCC.
I could take piles of earth and leave them around the house, saying:
“Ooh look, the moles have heard about you not eating your vegetables and they’re looking for you.”
Perhaps I could leave some droppings in his bed…
“Lucky you weren’t in bed at the time or you’d have no toes! They’ve obviously found out about when you had a crying fit because you couldn’t go outside in just your socks.”
I want Edgar to be able to trust everything I say. I don’t want to immediately set up the foundation for the belief that everything I say is to be investigated to find out if it’s true; that it might be a little trick so he gets humiliated at school in front of his friends, or even worse, his enemies.
Plus, kids love to pretend, as much as they love reality, possibly even more. Reality is ever such a boring thing when you’re a kid.
“We landed on the moon.”
“Whatevs… Do you want some of this cake I baked?”
Child offers you a hand with nothing in it.
“Nom nom nom” you say whilst stuffing your face with the magical calorie free cake.
Child is over the moon (puntendo*) and wants to find another gullible adult to play the same trick on.
*An amalgamation of pun and intended so that it rhymes with Nintendo. This will definitely catch on.
So we’re still going to have Christmas and celebrate in a big way (see resurrect the Tesco Christmas tree in the loft and have a large amount of booze in the house). It’s just going to be about pretending. And I’m going to bet that Edgar enjoys it just as much, if not more.
Obviously initially I will have shot myself in the foot (or Edgar in the foot, but I don’t like to think about that, even metaphorically) because he will be the odd one out for not believing. But kids get much more cruel as they get older, so by the time everyone has found out about the lie, Edgar will be revered as some sort of Nostradamus style messiah.
“What else isn’t really true oh wise one?” they will ask him.
“Well,” he’ll say, “I’m glad you asked. People who don’t give me their chocolate from their lunches will go to hell.”
Edgar! Don’t bring shame to the family. The family shame cupboard is full.
“Hell doesn’t even exist,” says one kid.
“Then where’s your mum at?” says Edgar.
Oh please please Edgar – don’t turn out to be a bully!
I already worry about that because he has strong hands, but that’s another post entirely.
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