Despite reports to the contrary, Santa is alive and well in our household and in the heart and mind of my 9-year-old daughter.
Well color me slack-jawed in disbelief.
You see, my friend (and fellow Babble Voices blogger) Amalah told me she had overheard an exchange sometime back this summer (when clearly the attention of all children everywhere must be presumed to be trained on a holiday TWO SEASONS AND SIX FREAKING MONTHS AWAY), a conversation that took place between my daughter and her son, Noah, on the subject of the jolly fat man. According to Amy, it all went down something like this:
My daughter: You see, Santa can’t possibly be real. No one can live on just milk and cookies. YOU’D DIE.
Her son: Yeah, you’re crazy and wrong and I’m not talking about this anymore.
*FINIS.*
So in light of this one would assume that this year we wouldn’t be putting out cookies Christmas Eve, or presents from the mythical Santa the next morning for that matter.
One would be gravely mistaken.
