On Santa and his "elves"

Disclaimer: This post is rated PG-13. Parents, be forewarned: This post is not for youngsters.


That said, this Christmas we told our 9-year-old the "truth" about Santa. When my parents broke the news to me, I wept. At least that's how I remember it. So I agonize about when and even if we should have "the talk." Should we just let them keep believing in the midst of all their scoffing friends throughout their teenage years or should we break their hearts? What a dilemma.

In my family growing up my parents came up with a way of lessening the blow. When you graduated to "knowing" status you became an elf. The job of an elf was to wait until all the younger children are fast asleep and then, with supervision from mom and dad, fill the stockings. It was great fun and after the initial shock that first year, I loved it.

We have done the same thing. Topher, our oldest, has been an "only elf" for the last several years but this year he had a sidekick. Ronan took the news in stride. Jay asked him, "Ronan, who do you think Santa Claus really is?" Long pause. With hesitation, "You and Mom?" "You're right, Ronan. You've shown mom and I that you are mature enough now to help us guard this wonderful secret and we would like to extend to you the calling of 'Junior Elf.' " Then we went on to explain his new duties. He was excited. Very excited.

He currently shares a room with his 6-year-old sister, Lacey Grace. Even though she wasn't asleep he kept creeping out of bed to ask questions about the assignment. This made it almost impossible for Lacey Grace to go to sleep. Finally, I moved her into my room and sat on the bed beside her. Even then our Junior Elf came creeping in to check and see if she had drifted off and I had to gesticulate wildly, pointing firmly to the exit of my bedroom until he took it.

Since performing his duties on Christmas Eve he has begun to make statements that take my breath away. On Christmas evening he declared to his little sister and the whole family that he had seen Santa in the wee hours when he came downstairs to go to the bathroom. She began to press him for details while Jay and I exchanged nervous looks. She wanted to know exactly what he looked like and if any conversation had taken place. After Ronan had described Santa to her satisfaction I quickly stepped in and assured Lacey that Ronan had quickly climbed the stairs to bed without Santa seeing him so there "was no conversation, right Ronan?" "Right mom," said Ronan. He may have even winked.

Then tonight, as we stood around the kitchen island eating our traditional beefstick with sweet hot mustard he suddenly proclaimed, "Daddy met two of Santa's elves last night, didn't you, dad?" "Really, daddy? You really did? What were their names?" Lacey Grace was thrilled. Jay, thinking fast, said, "It was a few years ago that I met them and elves never use their real names." "Well, what were their pretend names?" she pressed. I stood at the sink listening. "Mmm....Bob and...Snuffleophagous (uh, sp?)." We all started laughing; Jay and I relieved to have dodged the bullet again.

We just keep wondering, what will this Junior Elf say next? When will he say it? What will we say? We cautioned him when we had "the talk" that his most important duty as elf was to keep the secret safe. We never imagined that he would begin to augment our Santa tradition with eye-witness Santa sightings of his own and tales of Jay getting chummy with North Pole folks.

While we have no idea what wild claims he may next make about himself or his father there is one thing we do know. It's simply this. When Easter comes, Jay and I are keeping our mouths shut.