While waiting for breakfast — a delicious quiche that a lovely student gave me as a Christmas gift — the Boy asked a simple question: “Daddy, does Santa even exist?” The question took me unawares.
“Well, if he doesn’t, how do you think you get those presents?” I asked in response after a pause.
“You guys do it!” he shouted with a grin.
I’ve always been a little reluctant about the whole Santa thing. On the one hand, it’s harmless fun. On the other, it does necessitate misleading your child. I decided that this was the opportunity for which I’d been waiting to encourage critical thinking.
“Well, how could we figure it out? What kind of an experiment could we run to see?” I remembered Neil DeGrasse Tyson explaining the experiment his daughter ran with her friend to test the existence of the Tooth Fairy: they decided they simply would keep secret any lost teeth and see if the TF showed up. She didn’t. Simple.
E couldn’t think of anything, but we went through the logic behind the Santa story — or rather, the lack thereof. Using a Socratic-type questioning method, reached the following conclusions:
- The North Pole is real, but that doesn’t prove much.
- People in Brazil don’t have chimneys, but they still get presents.
- The size of the average chimney makes it all but impossible for a human to slide down it with a sack of toys.
- The dirt in the chimney (I didn’t get into soot) might make the toys dirty, but the fact that they’re in a sack might keep them clean.
- The dirt in the chimney would definitely pose a problem when it came to leaving without a trace — there would be dirty footprints everywhere.
- It doesn’t seem possible to visit all homes in the world in a single night.
- The size of the sack needed to carry all the toys is unrealistic.
- Reindeer can’t fly.
When L joined us at the table, the Boy relayed the whole conversation to her, and she began apologetics for Santa.
I’m still not sure where the Girl stands on Santa. Surely she doesn’t believe anymore, but we’ve never had a conversation about it. And it’s just like the Girl to play devil’s advocate in such a situation.
In the end, the Boy stood more skeptical on the issue, and we decided that, even if Santa doesn’t exist, it’s fun to pretend he does. Perhaps that’s the best stance.
My daughters were like L: it was so (literally) magical to go along, that they chose never to question the story and I never knew exactly when they became Santa nonbelievers (perhaps an analogy could be found here to other beliefs that we choose to hold as real? :) ).
My son-in-law had said when Snowdrop was born that he did not want to run the whole Santa story by her since it was all such a fairy tale. But Snowdrop proved him wrong: her imagination is so rich, she plays so many pretend games all day long, that it became clear that it would be mean to isolate poor Santa and pound into her head that this one we could not play along with. She is almost four and no one, not even my son-in-law wants to rob her of Santa (which somehow crept into her lexicon without our noticing it). This year, she wants to make cookies for him, she makes up stories about Santa visiting her babies — it’s all so creative and beautiful. Maybe someday she will ask. No one will lie. But I myself am likely to say it’s a beautiful story. All beautiful stories have elements of truth and fiction.
Merry Christmas to you all and thank you for all your writing and photo work! I am such a fan!
Thank you — and a Merry Christmas to you and your family as well.
It’s always interesting to me how kids get ideas like that, and we parents can’t really trace where they came from. That can work for the good, but it often works the other way as well.