Last Christmas morning, my kids woke up at the crack of dawn, of course, and ran downstairs to see what Santa had left them under the tree. They squealed with delight as they opened a bike, Legos, books … you name it. And they thanked Santa repeatedly. Santa, Santa, SANTA!
“Santa is the BESTEST!” my son said as he ripped into some wrapping paper.
I fake smiled and nodded, “Oh, yes, he’s the bestest.” But inside I was thinking, “Screw you, Santa!”
Now, I’m not usually the type who needs to take all the credit. I’m a team player. I don’t have a competitive bone in my body. But as my kids went on and on and ON about how awesome Santa is, I got a little annoyed. And bitter. And insanely competitive.
I mean, who the hell is he to take all the credit? I did all the work. All the planning and shopping and wrapping. My back still ached from hunching on the floor wrapping presents for hours the night before. I still had scotch tape stuck in my hair. I was terrified at the thought of seeing my credit card bill, which I was sure was equal to the GDP of Barbados.
I made the mistake of having “Santa” give them all the fun stuff—the toys, the games. Mom and Dad gave them all the boring stuff, like new underwear and dental floss. Of course they think he’s the bestest.
So this year I was kinda selfishly hoping my kids wouldn’t believe anymore. I was hoping some kid at school would spill the beans and tell them that Santa isn’t real. That Santa is really your POOR MOM. That the real person you should leave cookies for, and think is the most amazing person on earth, is the lady who lets you wipe your snotty nose on her shirt. Not some bearded dude in a red suit. But alas, they still believe.
So here I go again with the whole hellish holiday charade. Running around like a madwoman, charging up a storm, wrapping till my hands are raw, while Santa takes all the credit.
And here’s the real beef. I’m sure that when my kids finally DO find out that I’m really Santa, they’re not going to thank me. They’re going to be mad at me for lying to them all these years. Moms … we just can’t win.
So since you’re never going to hear it from your kids, I’m going to say it to you now. You’re amazing! Your kids might not know how fabulous you are pulling off these Santa shenanigans while still feeding, bathing, clothing, cuddling, teaching and taking care of your brood. But I do. And I think you’re the BESTEST!
Merry Christmas everyone!