My Dear Children

For the last two nights, my dear children went to stay with their grandparents, who live about 40 minutes away. While they were gone, they were taken to “Winter Wonderland.” This is a very childish display of various Christmas themes … a big gingerbread house, a few displays of various countries and the way they celebrate Christmas. There are many life size figurines/paper mache models that move. Santa Claus is there. It is really cheesy and stupid, but small children enjoy it. We took our kids when they were 1, 3, and 5 and they hadn’t been back since. My oldest son, Elliot, who will soon be 10, REALLY wanted to go. (He had a fond memory of it, I guess.)

When we picked them up from Grandma and Grandpa’s today … on the ride home, we got an earful and I want to share some of it with you!

My 5 year old, Simon, said that there was a fat stupid idiot inside of a pretend building.
Charlotte, the 7 year old, said that the whole thing was very “baby-ish.”

Then we started talking about Santa Claus. We don’t tell our kids that Santa Claus is real. We never have because of a matter of parental conscience and truth. My husband was telling the kids about “Nicholas” and where the legend came from. The kids themselves were discussing it in the back seat. My daughter said, “Santa Claus is magic.” Elliot then corrected her and said, “No, his power is witchcraft.” (jaw drop) John was questioning our son on this concept of “witchcraft,” trying to hear more of his reasoning. Elliot said that in the legend, Santa can fly and witches fly on broomsticks, so Santa must be using witchcraft. John then asked him if Superman uses witchcraft to fly. “Of course not, he’s a super hero.” And that was that.

Simon then mentioned the big fat idiot at the Winter Wonderland again. Elliot made sure to tell him that it was just a guy dressed up in a red suit. My husband piped in and said that it was a guy doing a job … that was how he was making money to buy some things for his family. John then challenged Simon: “What if I had to dress up in a red suit, would I be a fat, stupid idiot?” Simon replied, “No, you’re not fat.”

The oldest then segued into a tearful expression of disappointment over all the kids at his school. “They are all worried about Santa Claus and what presents they’re going to get. They don’t even think about Jesus and all that He has done for us.”

We parents had gone from laughing to crying all within 5 minutes. Dear children have that effect.

the END