Behind the Beard

This Christmas our 3 year old and 17 month old had a bonanza from Santa which they thoroughly rampaged, pillaging the contents in a merciless scorched earth policy, which made us wonder as to the wisdom of presenting toddlers with a cornucopia of gifts they are too excited to enjoy.

My husband had to act quickly to save Christmas when in my febrile state, through a cacophony of coughing and through a veil of matted hair and tissues that covered a deluge of streaming snot, I commented on the origin of a particular present that had ensnared their attention. "Mama's making a joke" he said, at once achieving a paternal smile while smiting me with his stare, which I thought quite an admirable feat. Indeed, hubby had diligently worked at indoctrinating our kids into this merry myth, including by leaving out a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, prudently drinking and eating Santa's treat (after all, his Corpulence could do without).

My husband and I, albeit we are both passionate Balkans to the detriment of our neighbours and the peaceful enjoyment of their abodes, have very a similar mindset, manners and share the same values. On what is now unfortunately and somewhat embarrassingly a controversial issue in the U.S.,  such as whether to provide your children with the benefits of modern medicine and perform your civil duty to the fellow members of your society by vaccinating your children and maintaining herd immunity, we didn't need a debate. We were also both opposed to pacifiers/dummies (the mischief is in the name! - admittedly due to some nursing mishaps our first used one periodically for the first two months) and adhere to the positive discipline approach (which admittedly at times we each fail at, resorting to our Southern European familial traps). Santa, however, was a topic that never even came up, even to laugh about. My husband had grown up with a firm Santa tradition and while he had wondered whether my Communist upbringing had included such a capitalist day (after all while his preschool was merry with the music of Ring Around a Rosie, mine abounded with songs against fascism and freedom to the people- that had mean hooks and were extremely catchy- but I digress) I had told him several stories of my quite inebriated maternal grandfather heartily taking on the role of Santa each year and decided that was good enough for him.

So here we were, presents apart, a Christmas tree glowing unease as our kids tattered paper with glee in a gluttonous frenzy, presented with the first real kerfuffle in our pedagogical partnership. I ran through my objections internally and did not find sufficient resolve to warrant action one way or the other. If my husband hand't brought up the tradition, I didn't know whether I would have (there were after all pleasant aspects to the story of a merry traveller dispersing presents worldwide) and my elder son's schoolmates had already been indoctrinated. Inoculation against his Corpulence would be tough. If I managed to unmask the myth, my toddler would surely disclose this to his schoolmates leading to possible excoriation from their parents. I did love a good fight.... but was it worth it? I looked at my kids' excited faces and decided to abide by the myth in due service to their smiles (at least momentarily).

"Yes, silly mama, it was bought by Santa!" I exclaimed, to which my husband quickly retorted his correction. "Oh, mama is on a roll with jokes this morning - Santa doesn't buy stuff, his elves make stuff " my husband affirmed. I acquiesced in this assertion but later told my husband away from small and earnest ears that I had to further analyze my views on Santa for the following year. He has disfavoured dietary habits, appears to defy all labor laws in his employment of the elves who appear to work around the clock without breaks in occupational hazard, his reindeer indubitably have workplace injury from having to fly such weight non-stop across the globe and I remain suspect as to whether he has adequate workers' compensation in place, has no diversity in the workplace and a firm ice ceiling, with no record of any elf being promoted from labour to a managerial position, infringes intellectual property with impunity, defies all custom laws and is a chronic trespasser. It was no wonder that on seeing his nuono dressed up as Santa (the first time he had seen his Corpulence), L ran to me, his eyes wild with the beat of fear as he shivered a hug around me.


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