Thursday, December 23, 2010


We don't believe in Santa in my house. Not after what he did to us last year. One of his reindeer ran over and killed my grandma. You probably saw it on the news.
My parents told me there was no Santa Claus for religious reasons. They felt the story about a fat bearded man in a red suit who lives with Elves in the North Pole who watches your every move and rewards your good behavior with presents, somehow undermined the story about how a man who lived in heaven sent a spermless angel to make a lady pregnant with his son who would grow up to die on a cross and rise from the dead 3 days later, and if we believed in him he would reward our good behavior with eternal life. You can see their point.
My wife and I are not religious. Truthitarians maybe. We're just trying to be consistent as parents. Don't tell your kids to not hit and then spank them. Don't tell them not to not lie and then convince them a time shifting fat guy comes down the chimney bearing gifts once a year. We're not dicks about it. We just tell them Santa is a fun story. There is still plenty of Christmas craziness and Santa talk at my house, our kids just know their relatives and Visa bought their presents, not Santa. I'm not trying to be a dream killer. I don't tell them the 100% truth about everything, that would probably be a little too much. "Work hard and you can accomplish anything you want in life" for example. I haven't said that to them, but if someone else did I'd probably let it slide. It's kind of true. I'm not gonna be one who says "Life is a random clusterfuck of luck and misfortune who the hell knows what will happen. Sleep tight kids."
I say "I don't know" a lot more than my parents did. I say "Google it" a lot more too.  In some ways my kids don't get a lot out of me.
Is there a god? Not sure
What happens when we die? Not sure
Are there ghosts? Maybe
Are there aliens? Maybe
Those are the big 4 questions if you're a kid by the way. That and
"Why do we have to do homework?"  Cause if you don't an alien ghost will eat you.
I've heard people describe their father as "The wisest man I know." I guess I'm going more for
"Yeah my dad didn't know shit about anything, but he was very honest about it." 
They can make up their own mind when their older. Or now. Yesterday when Maisy was rambling on about Santa being on our roof I said "You know Santa Claus is just a fun story he's not really going to come to our house on Christmas." She yelled back " Santa is real! And he's bringing me presents!" I will respect her choice. I should have said "Yes, he is real and he only bring presents to little girls who go poop on the toilet."  Maybe I'll save that motivation tactic for when she asks about God and I can tell her hell is for the unpotty trained.

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