Liar Liar

I like to think of myself as an honest person; some would say I’m TOO honest sometimes and, under normal circumstances, I would virtually break out in hives at the thought of lying.  And yet, it gets to this time of year, and I don’t just tell a few harmless white lies or a couple of little porkies, oh no.  I turn into a pathological liar and the fibs just spew forth from my mouth without a second thought.

Of course it’s all for a good cause; that is, the keep the magic of Christmas alive for our children for as long as humanly possible, but I can still never quite get over just how easily it comes to me.

Here are just some of the things we’ve said to really screw up our children and mess with their heads:

• At a ‘Christmas Experience’ on Saturday evening when our seven year old knew that the Santa there was someone in a costume; ‘Other people dress up as Santa at parties because the real Santa is busy making the toys so he needs special ‘helpers’ to share the workload.  No one has never seen the REAL Santa.’  (Cue wiping nervous sweat from my brow as I could see him fall for it, hook, line and sinker.)
• When our eldest worried about how Santa would get in our house; ‘Father Christmas doesn’t need a chimney because he has a magic key that opens any door.’ (Damn you, modern houses with central heating!)
• When he asked what my husband and I had bought him for Christmas; ‘Mummies and daddies buy the main present on the list and then send it to Santa and he can decide whether the children have been good enough to receive it.’ (This sounded REALLY unconvincing to me but the kids seem to buy it.  Santa’s carbon footprint must be HUGE.)
• When he asked why people come round with presents when Santa is supposed to deliver them; ‘Santa only delivers presents to children from himself and from mummies and daddies.’ (Of course.  Derr.)
• As we prepared the snack last Christmas Eve; My husband: ‘Santa doesn’t want to drink milk!  He’ll want whiskey to warm him up!’ (Until our seven year old pointed out that you should never drink and drive, whether it’s a car on the road or a sleigh and reindeers across the sky.)  Quite right.
• When he asked why we needed to do the ‘Shoebox Appeal’ at school (bless him for having a social conscience); ‘Those children’s parents don’t have enough money to buy presents for Santa to give to their children so we have to buy them instead.’
• When our three year old was having a tantrum; ‘See that?’ (pointing to the sensor on the ceiling).  ‘Santa is watching you through that to see if you’re being a good boy.’  (I know, I was desperate, but not as desperate as last Christmas Eve when he was having a meltdown at bedtime and my husband stood in the garden tinkling ice in a glass whilst I ran upstairs to tell him to be quiet so he could hear the ‘bells’ on Santa’s sleigh.  The things you do.)
• As a deterrent for bad behaviour; ‘The elves start watching for good boys and girls from October, you know.’ (The rules are: two months each of mileage from Christmas, Easter, their birthday and their summer holiday and the rest can be bribed away with other children’s parties and weekend treats.)
• And when our eldest asked why the elves haven’t arrived yet; ‘Give them a chance!  We’ve only just put the tree up.’  Seven year old: ‘Yes, they must have thought we were away on holiday.’  (Yep, I’ll go along with that.)

Looking at this list, I’ve decided ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’, so the next time our seven year old asks an awkward question I’m going to say, ‘I’ve heard that Santa doesn’t deliver presents to children who ask too many questions because he thinks they don’t really believe.’

That should stop the onslaught for a while but please don’t let him lose another tooth before Christmas. I can only cope with one lot of bulls**t at a time. 🙂