This was the year that my son decided that he was going to do whatever it took to believe in Santa. He spend weeks trying to figure out the logistics of how a sleigh would land on the roof, how a big old man would be able to get down a chimney, how he would find ways to find real evidence that this was real. You see, I never insisted on creating the myth nor did I deny it. We had Christmas as a time to give gifts to each other and to spend time with family. No big build up to it. This year, he is in a school with different children from different family structures and conversations aren’t as monitored as his previous school; therefore, Santa became a topic of many discussion with information he collected and brought home. Having this dropped on our laps, we decided to go ahead and let it play out for him. We made cookies, his dad got a gift he really wanted even though we told him we would not, could not get him. We put foot prints coming out of the chimney trailing to a box with different wrapping that was from SANTA. It was all there. He tried and tried and tried to make it real for him but he just couldn’t do it. There were too many inconsistencies that bothered him about it. Therefore, he just let me know that even though it’s all there, he knew it was dad and that’s okay because his dad got him what he wanted. He shrugged it off.
NOW there is another side to this story that blows my mind. Each year my husband buys and wraps gifts to each of us from the cats. The wrapping always has cat fur on it and it’s generally something like cat treats or cat toys. It’s been something he has done for 10 years and I always look forward to what Bert and Ember are going to give me. This year, there was a gift from the cats to the little guy. He opened it up with shock and excitement. It was special cat treats from each cat. He took the treats and put them in his room to give to the cats each day and he was so excited that they wanted him to feed them. HE ACTUALLY BELIEVES that the cats somehow went to the pet shop, bought the gifts, wrapped them and put them under the tree. Wha? Okay. It’s been three days now and he still reminds me that “Bert got this for me because he likes tuna treats”, “Ember got dad a scratching post because she wants a new one”.
And so there we have it. The true spirit of Christmas comes from the two fat, lazy, sloths like cats that are sleeping on the couch right now.
Merry Christmas little man.