My kid knows there is no Santa, as of yesterday. You know who told him? Santa! We went to sit on the old guy's lap, and to talk to him, for we have come to know this Santa over the years, and he is a lovely man. Many years, I myself have sat on his lap and had the most heart-warming conversations. Yesterday, while my boy, who has had his suspicions, but wanted to still believe, was on The Lap, and DadBob and I beside Santa, he talked about looking forward to going home to his little town in Idaho, that this was his last gig of the season, that his wife for many years had made the sacrifice of being alone between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I think he assumed that a boy the size of BoyBob probably already knew--and indeed, he did, but now he *knows*.
I don't mind. It was kind of a nice way to find out--because here is this lovely man that *would* be Santa if he were real--so there are people like what you hoped for in the world. I just wish he would have that OTHER talk with BoyBob for me--YOU know--THAT talk. DadBob told BoyBob the facts of life when BoyBob was 6 months old, and said "I don't know what all the fuss is about...that was really *easy*." Sigh.
My grandfather, who died 4 years ago at age 93, was another Santa. He had the body and beard without costume, and the sweet and interested nature. He started playing Santa "for the old people" when he was 80. He said the ladies pulled his beard. His favorite story was of a young boy who refused to tell Santa what he wanted for Christmas because "I told you last year, and you didn't BRING it."
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Yes, this is definitely a nice way to find out. I found out when the Santa whose lap I sat on reeked of beer. I was about 5yo, and I asked my parents after why Santa would need to drink beer. To my childish sensibilities, the two just didn't go together.
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