Sometime at the beginning of December, Landon came home and asked me if there really was a Santa Claus. It came off more as a statement than a question and I was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. I asked him why he was bringing it up and he told me that the kids at his lunch table told him that there wasn’t one and that their parents had told them so.
I remember when Zoe found out there wasn’t a Santa and how mad she was about it. I thought she’d be sad, but when she got angry I was a little surprised. I guess she felt duped, and how else do you expect kids to feel when you tell them the opposite of what you’ve been telling them for years?
Landon and I had a long talk about the spirit of the season and the true meaning of Christmas, but it still broke my heart to tell him there wasn’t an actual man that rode reindeer and left gifts for good little girls and boys. I just wasn’t ready for him to not believe anymore and I feel that nine years old is just too young to lose the magic. I wanted my baby to hear the bell ring just a little longer…
When it came to bed time on Christmas Eve, he told me he still wanted to put out cookies for Santa, and I thought to myself that he must still believe a little, and I was so happy!
But then, as he got out the cookies he asked me how many I wanted.
Little turkey.
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