The Mystery of Christmas
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Let me be honest with you. It’s not that kind of post. If you’re expecting something warm and fuzzy about the season, it’s not in this post. (Maybe in this one.)
The mystery I’m talking about is this: why is it that Christmas makes it okay to lie to our children?
We parents spend a lot of time and energy teaching them what it means to tell the truth:
Boy 2: I’m all done!
Me: No you’re not, you didn’t eat anything.
Boy 2: Weth, I did. I ate it all gone!
Me: But it’s still on your plate.
Boy 2: No it’th not!
Me: A lie is when you say something that’s not real. Is it still on your plate?
[He pauses, ever the politician. He opts for the distraction.]
Boy 2: I want a cookie.
Rewarding truth-telling and punishing lies:
Me: No, you can’t have a cookie. You’re saying a lie because you didn’t really eat your dinner.
[He weighs his options and takes a few bites from his plate.]
Boy 2: Now I want a cookie.
Me: Did you eat it all gone?
[He pauses.]
Boy 2: No?
Me: Yay! You told the truth! Now you can have a cookie.
That same parent who insisted on truthiness in such a trivial matter will later tell Boy 2 all about a magical man who lives in the North Pole, surrounded by elves, and who once a year whips his flying reindeer into a frenzy to deliver free toys to every child on the planet. Except you, if you don’t eat everything on your plate.
The real message about truth is therefore: Tell the truth most of the time unless peer pressure is so great that it’s difficult. And if you must tell a lie, tell a HUGE one so that you can say, “What, you believed that?” and make it seem like it’s the listener’s fault for believing you.
December 13th, 2007 at 6:18 pm
I was appalled by this scam as a youngster. Friends would tell me there is no Santa and I would vehemently support the myth since my parents told me he was real. I could not believe my parents carried on such a blatant lie for so long. I was disappointed, I guess until Christmas morning when I opened all of Santa’s, er…mom and dad’s gifts. Then it was like, “what the hay, whether it’s true or not I’m getting a boatload of presents”. I know that proves to be a great example of the me, me, me society we are a part of now.
As a parent I justify this to my kids that know about Santa by saying, “I did not lie, Santa is real, look at me…I’m real aren’t I”. (A spin like that and I’m not even a politician!).
I still remember realizing the scope of this train of lies once I knew about Santa. “Oh my gosh, the Easter Bunny, and the TOOTH FAIRY”. It all seemed possible. I wanted it to be true. Oh well. Life is still good and I trust my parents, just not all the time (which doesn’t make sense, but neither does Santa)
Merry Christmas.
December 14th, 2007 at 12:22 am
I appreciate there is a fine line between spin and lie. Sometimes one is the same. We will persist with an idea that my beloved spawned - Santa, who you see at the shops, doesn’t come to us as we don’t need him to. He goes to kids whose Mummy & Daddy who need a little help giving presents to their family. We’ll help by buying a gift and putting it under the wishing tree. (I think that’s right Darling - please correct where I’ve got it wrong).
It seems to be working. Beloved took the kids shopping this morning, and reported back on the experience of No1 son picking a gift to buy for someone and putting it under the wishing tree. I’ll let her/expect her to blog about it shortly… I’m sure it will be a wonderful read.
December 15th, 2007 at 8:06 am
Yeah, the whole dam bursts pretty fast once the first crack appears. We’ve never pushed the Easter Bunny the way we push Santa. I just could never bring myself to say a bunny visits the house and leaves plastic hen’s eggs filled with jelly beans.
Molk, tell me more. (Or Michelle, get busy and write that post.) What is a wishing tree? I really like the explanation you’ve settled on.
December 16th, 2007 at 6:19 pm
All done Joe!
You get PLASTIC eggs? Ripped off! At least we get chocolate!
December 18th, 2007 at 11:21 am
This story sleighs me. Sorry, a little pre-medicated humor. They’re telling me I have to go back to my room now. They let me out for computer time every week. I look forward to more posts.
December 18th, 2007 at 1:21 pm
Why, Samson! I had no idea you were such a punner. I thought your specialness came from your hair, but now I find out it’s from meds?? Way to burst the bubble. ‘Tis the season for disillusionment.