I distinctly remember, as a young girl, thinking that my mom must have had Mr. Sherff, a very old man who lived up the street from us, write out the Santa tags on our Christmas presents. It was in shaky old man handwriting, so I guess it was more plausible to me that my mom would have commissioned a shaky old man to do it than the idea – gasp! – that she just faked her own handwriting. I remember the excitement of Christmas Eve – the evening spent with the Morton side of my family, having to take a group photo with all my cousins before we could rip into presents and gorge on cookies because the Morton DNA code is basically good recipes + ability to bake + appetite for carbs. And Christmas morning – running down stairs to grab my stocking (the only thing my mom would let us open by ourselves before she was awake) and bring it back up to my room to unload massive amounts of candy. But I don’t really remember believing in Santa or not believing in Santa. Probably because I really would not have cared about whatever ruse was created as long as it resulted in presents (and CANDY!) for me.
Now that it’s my turn to create the ruse, and my oldest is old enough to sort of get it, I have a serious philosophical question for you: Do/will kids notice that every time they meet Santa, it’s a different person behind the white beard?
We had our first encounter of the 2015 holiday season with Santa last night. My sister-in-law organized a visit from the big guy through her town’s “Friends of” group for her two kids, my two kids and a friend’s two kids. First Santa was a blast (and also a little sauced), but my 3-year-old was not having it. He eventually gave Santa a high five on his way out the door.
We’ll have our next encounter Friday at our daycare’s holiday party (just another reason I heart the Clubhouse!). Ben’s first time meeting Clubhouse Santa was AMAZING and ended up being our Christmas card that year. His second time was not so much. Here’s hoping the third time is the charm (and by charm I mean, not resulting in tears or refusal to engage).
The next turn will be Sunday on a Santa Express train ride. Ben was not impressed with Train Santa last year, but he (Ben, not Santa) needed a nap. Now that we’ve apparently dispensed with afternoon naps, maybe the train ride will be more fun…
And the final encounter with Santa before he shimmies down our chimney will likely be Christmas Eve. After the kids rip through their presents and gorge on cookies AND TAKE A GROUP PICTURE as required by Morton Law, Santa (who is definitely NOT my cousin’s husband) stops by. Morton Santa is pretty low key and not in your face, so last year Ben was OK with him. Not Will-Ferrell-in-Elf-Scream-Your-Lungs-Out-“SANTA!!” OK, but OK nevertheless. Morton Santa gave Ben a play drum kit last year, so if anything, we were more annoyed with the man in the red suit than Ben. Jk – Morton Santa is a very generous guy and we appreciate him.
So that’s already FOUR DIFFERENT SANTAS in a 2-week period, not including the Santas in all the Christmas movies we’ve been watching. I’m assuming/hoping Ben is too young to question the different Santas, but just for future reference (or this weekend): how do you explain all the Santas to your kids?
Also, would it be so bad if just ONE of the Santas made a decree that Elf on the Shelf would lose his magic not only if you touch him, but also if you photograph him and post it on Facebook?? (Jk again! I love your photos. Every.single.one.of.them 😉)