I’m so freaking over Santa. There I’ve said it. Did you gasp? Cover your mouth? Cower in shock?
Let me tell you why I’ve realised that Santa needs to piss off. Because let’s be frank there’s no magic elves doing all that planning, spending and shopping and wrapping. It’s me. So why should some imaginary overweight unshaved old guy in head to toe red get all the kudos?
So in my house, he’s not. I’m taking the credit this Christmas. And Old St Nick? He can jingle all the f*ck away.
Now before you get all hey you, Christmas Grinch and where’s the magic lady? on me, hear me out. We still do the Santa charade. He just doesn’t get to bring the good stuff. In our house Mum and Dad are the awesome bringers of the big shiny things. Santa gets to bring a small stocking of special little items. Just as much magic, not as much stuff.
Because after all, we (ok let’s be honest that’s an I) do the hard yards. The ideas. The lists. The shopping and schlepping and wrapping and waiting up. So when my kids’ eyes light up with excitement and happiness, those eyes are directed at us. And so are the thank yous and hugs and kisses and you’re the best-evers. Why waste them on some bloke who’s not even there to appreciate the joy? If my kids are going to be thankful and grateful, I want in on that action (especially when the other 360 odd days a year don’t fly like this one!)
There are other perks of sodding off Santa too.
Because my kids know the presents come from Mum and Dad they ask for something exciting and special, but they go for realistic too. No impossible purple spotted unicorns with yellow horns. And no pet elephants. They get that Mum and Dad have to buy it so it needs to be achievable. And they also know that we have no money tree (‘cause if Santa could bring those, Mum would have asked for one a long time ago) so they ask for Lego, but not the $700 collector’s special limited edition. Realistic expectations also means never being disappointed when Santa can’t magic up a purple spotted unicorn. There’s no need then for the crying, pouting, sulking or devastation Santa and the absence of the world’s most unachievable gift can invoke!
With their take on Santa my kids are also more humble in their requests. When he’s got to get stuff for every kid in the world and squeeze it all in one sleigh (great work whoever came up with that story), they get he just practically can’t bring the world’s biggest slot car set. So they ask for something smaller and special, not a laundry list of demands. And let’s face it, who wants to have that kid sitting on Santa’s lap? You know the one with the full Christmas Toy Sale catalogue saying I’ll have that and that and that and that…. Yep, it’s yuck right?
And possibly my favourite thing? We don’t need any faked, 1984 style dude watching in to see who’s naughty or nice. No Santa, no elves, no sodding Elf on the Shelf. Mum and Dad are the barometer of behaviour in this house. And good behaviour is expected (hoped for more like it!) every day because that’s how we roll in this family. We’re good for reasons other than Santa.
Truth be secretly told, I’m also hoping that when it comes time to fess up about Santa, it’s somehow less of a lie. Just a little Christmas magic, a story that added something special. But the big stuff, the time and love and thought put into those Christmas gifts was always Mum and Dad.
So sod off Santa. Christmas is awesome because we are!
