It’s getting pretty clear we’re going to have to relocate. Possibly to the Middle East. We’ll lay low for a couple of months. Till the garlands are down and the trees have been taken away by the large item trash collectors. It should be safe to return by then.
I’ve tried bribes, threats, and even considered a muzzle. But it’s no hope. My children are going to spill the beans. They are going to tell your children that most dreaded of facts.
Santa isn’t real.
It’s not their fault. It’s ours. We told them, in a calculated move. It was for their own good. Their psychological health and well being were at stake.
It’s bad enough being a Jewish kid at the holidays and not getting to be a part of the tinselfest cocoathon your friends are all enjoying. But having a magical dude snub your entire household is just too much. Much as I hate to admit it, no colorful dreydel, potato pancake or candelabra can really compare to a sleighload of toys pulled by peppermint scented flying reindeer.
Disclaimer: No, we can’t give in and celebrate the holiday. No, even the non religious parts. It’s not how we roll. Please respect that. It’s a slippery slope from Jewish to secular to nothing, and not one we’d like to experiment with at this time. We’re entirely happy to share your holiday with you in YOUR home, but not in ours.
Not bringing the holiday into our home, is the crux of the Santa problem.
“Why does Santa hate the Jews, Mommy?”
Because, shnookums… Santa isn’t real. The mommies and daddies do the shopping. Like we do for you for Hanukah. Santa is *pretend*.
I know! The horror! You hate me right now, don’t you? But what were we supposed to tell the poor kids?
A thousand other answers jump to mind, now that the moment is long gone.
“We don’t need personal shoppers, honey – Santa knows how good at shopping Mommy is.”
“Santa sends our gifts in the mail, you know, because our holiday never lines up with Christmas”
“Santa’s distant cousin Shmuely handles our shopping, honey. He’s got a magic flying ark pulled by milk and honey eating lions”
In the end we opted for honesty though. We did it with the first, and there was no going back She told her sister, her sister told her brother….
Was honesty the best policy? Sure. Until we realized that we might have to join the witness protection program to keep our kids from telling everyone on the block (your kids!) about their beloved magical hero.
I do have a plan this year. I’m telling my 7yo that if he tells anyone about Santa, that aside from my wrath he”ll have to face the wrath of another. The real magical hero will get pissed off.
That’s right. You don’t want to piss off the tooth fairy when you’re a 7yo with five loose teeth.
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