Santa

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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Comments
14 Responses to “Is It Okay To Tell Your Son That Santa’s A Lie?”
  1. Alex says:

    We need to discuss this one together. Man to man. Dad to dad. Idealist to idealist. Pragmatist to pragmatist.

    I need to broach the topic of experience without appearing patronising. I also need to reconcile in my own mind whether my position on this matter now, is acceptable.

    • raisingedgar says:

      We will make this happen. The sloe gin should be ready by then, perfect for such an occasion.

  2. Hazel says:

    I said exactly this. I’m not going to lie to my small, pure, uncorrupted child. I will be upfront and we will have a relationship based on trust. Ha! I buckled pretty much immediately, although my answer to ‘does Father Christmas exist’ has always been ‘ well, what do you think?’ I have encouraged stocking hanging, leaving of mince pies and beverage and yes, even scattering of reindeer dust on the front lawn. I know. How did it come to this. Hard to explain. I have resisted using the big FC as some kind of stick and carrot system of child control but that is my one and only saving grace. We do Easter bunny and tooth fairy too. My children’s lives are positively heaving with mythical creatures. Hanging head in shame. Good luck with sticking to your plan! Nice blog by the way.

    • raisingedgar says:

      Thanks Hazel. We may well fail too, but if we manage to stick to it I’ll let you know how it goes.

  3. Lucy J says:

    You sound like a bit of a sad bloke.

    Glad you’re not my dad or husband.

  4. Muma Leary says:

    Dudes- you’re only blog of the week. That’s amazing!!
    A very funny post. But I will not be following suit…yet.
    Btw- can’t believe you have those moles too. Madness.

    • raisingedgar says:

      Mahoosive delay in responding Tanya. Sorry! We’ve all been lurgy-laden, like the evolutionarily inferior creatures we are. Proper red cross on the front door stuff. Have a truly splendid Christmas x

  5. Becky says:

    I’ve written and deleted this comment a couple of times, because I don’t want to sound like I’m shouting YOU’RE WRONG when clearly it is a totally personal thing, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with your choice about this. I admire the sentiment in fact. Fair fucks to you, I say!

    But since it says ‘leave a comment’ up there, I’m gonna leave a comment.

    Personally, I love the Santa Magic, little wonder-filled faces, leaving out a mince pie and all that jazz. There’s nothing more enchanting to me than a small child’s wonder at christmas (Am total sap! Am gonna cry my eyes out at Leila’s nativity play! Send help!) , and Santa is part of that. For me, discovering the truth (in my case, when my drunk uncle farted as he was putting my stocking at the end of my bed) is more of a gentle rite of passage that makes you feel grown up, than a shattering of trust in everything your parents say.

    But hey- different strokes.

    • raisingedgar says:

      If he doesn’t see any magic in Christmas then maybe we’ll have made the wrong decision, but we’ll still leave out mince pies and a carrot for the reindeer etc. He’ll just be aware it’s pretend. I will still cry at his nativity play; I would probably cry at Leila’s nativity play. It’s not that I think this one thing will cause him to not trust anything else I say, it’s for a greater cause, which is for him to be able to believe that I never lie. Ever. And for that, sadly, I’ll have to sacrifice a little Santa magic.

      • Becky says:

        Argh, Edgar in a shepherd’s outfit- I’m crying simply at the thought!

        I like the idea of doing the traditions but telling the truth behind it. That seems like a good magic/not lying combo :)

  6. Kate says:

    You’ll be telling him peppa pig isn’t real next…or Jesus.. Ye gods x

    • raisingedgar says:

      Kate, we’ll be selecting lies completely at random, so you’ll just have to hope Peppa Pig comes up. If she does, all of our holidays will be at Peppa Pig world (a real thing I’m flabbergasted to have just discovered).

  7. Snagwin says:

    fantastically refreshing to come across another parent who can’t be faffed with the santa lie. I myself haven’t promoted his existence

    I have taught my daughter to always be wary of strangers (as most parents do) so why do we then encourage the notion of some billious sherry soaked weirdo sneaking into their bedroom at night?!

    (I didn’t however consider that my daughter would hold court on the subject and cause outrage amongst her social circle when she announced

    a) Santa does not exist, neither do his friends Toothfairy and Easter Bunny
    and
    b) that their parents were irresponsible and should have a serious think about stranger danger)

    Snagwin

    • raisingedgar says:

      Thanks Snagwin. Exactly – imagine being outraged that another child had told your child the tooth fairy didn’t exist. A childhood stolen.

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