Santa's Test

I knew the Santa questions were coming, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another year or two. Did Santa really fly from house to house leaving presents for obedient children?

Eight-year-old Julia made a lot of messes in our house and she didn’t always clean up. Maybe Santa put her on the naughty list. I mean, she made A LOT of messes, enormous ones. Maybe Santa would just skip our house this year.

Was Santa real? Some of the kids at school said he doesn’t even exist. What does THAT mean? Is Mommy the real Santa?

“This whole Santa thing is like realistic fiction,” she told me. HMMMMMM. That was a good sign, I thought. Surely that comment means she's paying attention at school, because I know she didn't pick up the "realistic fiction" stuff from ME. I'm sure I never uttered those words in my life.

But I wondered what could possibly be "realistic" about the flying reindeer, one with a nose that glows, a portly man who goes down chimneys and a flight around the world in one night. She wanted to see this as realistic. Sure, realistic.

“I’m going to be checking handwriting,” she told me. As a mother, I felt the pull of my job getting more difficult. I couldn’t make mistakes or I would step on Julia’s childhood. Squash. I didn’t want that to happen.

So I did what any loving, caring mother would do. I lied a little, I tricked her, and I invaded her privacy. I hope she appreciates it!

“I’m going to test Santa,” she confided in me. “I told him three things I want that I’m not telling anybody else.”

“What did you ask for?” I asked.

“Mom, I told you. They’re secrets. I’m not telling you.”

How could I get away with this? I felt stuck all day and then suddenly, an epiphany, and I came up with a plan.

I convinced Julia that because Santa is old like me, he needs to have things written down to remember them. With all those children to keep track of, he needed lists. Immediately, she jumped out of her chair away from the dinner table to get a pen and paper. She wrote him a letter and left it folded up on the dining room table.

A few minutes later, while Julia was doing handstands in the living room, I peeked at the letter. Hurry up! My stomach tightened as I snuck around doing the dirty work. I don’t think I’d make a very good criminal. I had reached my limit. That’s about as “crooked” as I could possibly get. Any more criminal acts and I’m sure I’d keel over with a heart attack.

Later on, I told her she should seal the letter in an envelope and write “Santa Claus, North Pole” on it. She did and then we drove it to the special North Pole mailbox in front of the library.

She questioned me. Would her letter need a stamp? No Mam. Letters that say, “Santa Claus” go directly northward and are delivered to the front door of Santa’s toy shop, I told her.
Julia secretly had asked Santa for two specific Bailey School Kids books. One was called, “The Bride of Frankenstein Doesn’t Bake Cookies” and I forget now what the other was, but I drove to Borders the next day, on Christmas Eve and OH NO!

Some tall, skinny employee kid who looked like he was about 14 told me those books are from an older series, so Borders didn’t carry all of them. There were other Bailey School Kids books, but not the ones she told Santa she wanted.

What? Santa would fail his test! Did this Border’s kid understand we had a Santa crisis on our hands? He didn’t even seem to care!!!!

I bought a couple of Bailey School Kids books, but they weren’t the right ones. Then I remembered, Julia also asked for a gift card to Toys R Us. I stopped on the way home to purchase a $10 gift card. It’s a good thing I did.

On Christmas morning, the first thing she pulled out when her little hand reached into her stocking was the gift card. Excitedly, she opened it up. “HOW DID HE KNOW?” she asked.
It was one of those holiday moments I will always remember. Santa passed his test that year. Way to go Santa!!!