We’re in love with Santa around here. Now, this is not my fault. Although I am a recovering elf who used to work with Santa in the mall, we haven’t discussed Santa much around these parts. That is, until my daughter met him in the mall the other day.
Until that fateful day, we were almost Santa-free, and I was fine with that. Enough of the gimmes. Enough of the excess of consumerism that makes people go a little cuckoo this time of year. No, we were the simple Christmas folks who were all about family and not about stuff. Yep, that was us.
Sure. The moment I step on any pedestal, it’s sure to break. That’s one of the hard and fast rules of parenting.
So my daughter saw Santa in the mall. She asked me if he was real. I professed extreme ignorance and asked her what she thought. She decided to go and check him out, sat next to him, and got an apple. Then we returned the next day – twice. Yesterday, we saw Santa three times. The first time we visited, then we gave him a cookie, and then who should show up at the evening lantern parade, but Santa, who thanked us for the delicious cookie.
My daughter is beyond thrilled every time she sees him. She shakes. And me? Well, for an ex-elf, I’d become rather cynical about the whole Santa endeavor. Now, I remember why I loved Santa in the first place. Why?
I feel that men in our society are not always seen as givers by preschoolers. With all of our concerns about safety, small children tend to be a little afraid of strange men. However, Santa is a safe figure, a giving and grandfatherly man. In a world of stranger danger and a distinct lack of magic, Santa brings comfort and giving and a magical world. See, I’m sold .
I’m working for a couple of days and I’ve had to warn Santa that we won’t be back to see him until the weekend. I hope that he can hold out. I’m not sure that my daughter can.